The Girl That Time Loved
by iron kitty
Summary: Complete. Mitsui befriends a bewildering volleyball player who changes his life in more ways than one.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer:  Slam Dunk and its characters do not belong to me.  Please do not sue me, I am rather destitute _.  

Thank you for reading.

**iron kitty**

            He heard the bells of the clock tower toll the hour as he shot a three-pointer.  **Swish**.  Nothing but net.

            He wiped the sweat off his brow with the sleeve of his shirt.  In the distance the last ring of the bells resonated in his ears and filled the empty gymnasium.

            Seven o'clock.

            Ever since he began studying in college, his mornings always started with early basketball practice at six.  It was a habit he couldn't shake off since high school, a way to start his day that always left him satisfied.

            And tired.  He retrieved his basketball and sank into a chair on the sidelines.  Digging through his gym bag, he tossed a towel over his head and leaned back, catching his breath.  He especially liked this part of the workout, staring off into space.  Not one thought crossed his mind.  He took in the stillness of the court and absorbed it until at last his breathing was soft and even.  He quietly reveled at the fact that he was the only occupant of this gym, even if it was only for an hour.  There were no others.  No movement, just the droning sound of the air conditioning fan, the sound of his breathing, and the faint thud of a ball hitting the wooden floor.  

            // What?  Where's that coming from? //

            He looked around he gym and saw no one else inside.  He shook his head, thinking his ears were playing tricks on him.

            He heard it again.

            Curious, he got up and flowed the sound through the double doors of the gymnasium.  No one was in the hallways.  Another pair of doors immediately in front of the ones through which he came were locked, leading him to think that no one was in the annex gym.  He waited another second for the soft thud to come back, hearing none he started to walk away.

            **Thud**.  

            Turning his head, he began to hear the sounds in sequence, louder this time.  He hurried to the next corner where the front entrance was.  These doors had rectangular windows above the handles that allowed him to see just what was going on.

            In the middle of the gym stood a volleyball net, a rack of volleyballs and a mechanical device that tossed volleyballs one by one to the outer end of the net.  He followed the trajectory of the ball and was surprised to see a girl jump up in the air to hit the ball over the net with such force, it bounced back up so high off the floor.  He stood in awe as he watched her return to her starting place and perform the same feat over and over again.  She must have a 120-centimeter vertical jump, and she couldn't be taller than 165.

            "She's wonderful, isn't she?"

            Mitsui turned around to find the coach of the college's volleyball team smiling at him.  He walked tot his side and watched along with him through the rectangular windows.

            "Good morning, Sato-sensei."  His eyes returned to the spectacle before them.  "She's awfully good.  How come I've never seen her practice with your team before?"  
            "That's because she isn't on the team."  Mitsui heard the coach sigh, almost in despair.  "You don't know how many times I've asked her to join.  With a powerful hit and a vertical jump like that, we'd win every game."  
            "Does she go to this school?"

            "You'd think so, she comes here almost every morning.  But no, I don't think so."

            "Don't you have to be a student to use the gym?"

            "Yeah, but for her the college made an exemption."

            They watched her some more.  In almost a whisper, the coach remarked, "Watch the look on her face every time she hits the ball."  
            She returned to the line and prepared for the next ball.  When it reached its peak in the air, she ran a couple of steps and jumped, her body soared in the air, almost like she jumped on springs.  With godlike speed she hit the ball down the line of the opposite court, landing gracefully on her feet.

            She was smiling. 

            Mitsui blinked.  She's been running and jumping for who knows how long, her efforts evident in her shirt drenched in sweat, and her chest heaved up and down for air.  She must be tired.

            "That face you just saw, it is unique among champions," coach Sato said.  "That smile, that attitude she has, that is what makes her a winner."

            The coach opened the door and entered the annex gym.  He waited for her to hit the last ball that ejected from the machine.  To his surprise, she hit the ball just as forceful as before with her left hand.  Landing and catching her breath, she turned around and gave the coach a respectful bow.

            "Good morning, Sato-sensei.  Thank you for letting me use the gym."

            The coach laughed.  "You're always welcome here.  And you know you can get more practice if –"

            "If I join your team."

            "Precisely!  So will you come to practice?"

            "I'm afraid I can't, Sato-sensei."  
            Mitsui walked into the gym to the coach's side.  He extended his hand towards her.  "Hello, my name is Mitsui Hisashi."  
            She looked at him and his hand, and then smiled.

            "Hello."  She gently shook his.

            "So are you a left-handed hitter now?" the coach interrupted.  "You never fail to surprise me, Reiko-san."  
            // So that's her name. //

            "So can I expect you here at three?"

            Again with a smile, she answered, "I'm very sorry, Sato-sensei.  I'm afraid I have a previous engagement."  
            Feeling dejected, the coach made a fist and put it against his chest.  "You are a heartbreaker, Reiko-san."

            All she could do was smile and apologize, and all that time Mitsui took in the sight of her.  Her eyes were a shade uncommon to Japanese people.  Grey.  Little wisps of hair stuck to the side of her face and neck, and her thick black hair was woven into a neat braid.  Her face was fair, and the sweat on her face made her skin glow under the gymnasium's halogen lights.  She was beautiful, and her presence radiated a quiet strength that he could feel just by looking at her.  She walked over to a bench where her things laid and took a towel to wipe her face and neck.  The coach was relentless.

            "It's just one practice, Reiko-san.  If not to join the team, then at least to show what my girls are missing."

            "Sato-sensei, do you have little faith in your team's abilities?"

            "No.  I have much faith in my team that they'll learn something from you."

            She sat down and thought about it.

            "Someday, Sato-sensei, but not today.  I am sorry," she said as she smiled.

            "That's okay, but I'll hold you to that!"  the coach exclaimed, almost like a child.

            She packed her things and taking her leave, she headed for the women's locker room.  The coach nudged Mitsui's elbow.

            "All right, you heard her.  That makes you a witness."  
            "Hey, don't suck me into your schemes, coach," he protested.

            "Yeah, but it's the least you can do for me since I let you in here every butt crack of dawn!"'

            Mitsui laughed and gave in.  He waved goodbye to the coach and turned around towards the double doors.  A gleam on the floor caught his eye and made him stop.  He bent down to find a small oval piece of metal on the floor.  He picked it up, put it in his palm and looked more closely.  There were grooves on the side of the oval and it had depth to it.  He assumed it was the girl's property and he walked out the double doors of the gym to wait for her.

            Thirty minutes passed and still no sign of her.

            Mitsui looked at his watch and decided to leave, thinking to give it to her another time.  He was going to be late for his first class and he had yet to shower.

            He cleaned up and left the gym, his hair still wet and slicked back looking like he was in a hurry.  As he stepped out into the bright sunlight, he was a black vehicle with four men in suits and dark sunglasses hiding their eyes, waiting outside.  He pad them no mind as he strolled past them.  After a few moments he heard the men greet someone in unison and the car door swung open.  By the time he turned his head to look, he only saw the legs of the new passenger of the vehicle.  Intrigued, he stopped walking and tried to look thought the vehicle's tinted windows.  As the car pulled out of the parking lot, he was the silhouette of a woman in the center seat of the vehicle, with a familiar braid that ran down her back.

            They were waiting for her.

            By the time he felt for the metallic oval piece in his pocket the vehicle was gone.  Muttering a curse for the chance missed, he ran towards the main campus, hoping he wouldn't be late.

-oOOo-

            Mitsui was relieved when the professor dismissed class.  He could barely keep up with his handwriting strewn across five blackboards.  At one point he paused to look to his sides to see a majority of his classmates either staring at the wall or sound asleep in their chairs.  Physics was never an attention-getter, especially when the professor rarely speaks.  

            As he walked down the corridor, a tall muscled man emerged from one of the classrooms and began walking with him.

            "Yo, Akagi," he acknowledged.  He held out his hand which Akagi friendly slapped.

            "Hey man, how was class?"

            Mitsui rolled his eyes.  "A fly on the wall can be more interesting."  
            His friend eyed his gym bag.  "Did you shoot some hoops this morning as usual?"

            "Yup.  And I saw someone pretty interesting."  
            "Who else would be up that early other than you?"  
            "Well, Sato-sensei was there with her."  
            "Oh, I see.  It's a 'her'," he cooed, hitting Mitsui on the shoulder.  "Is she the reason why you go practice so early in the morning?"  
            "No, today was the first day I saw her."

            "Did you talk to her?"

            "I introduced myself, but she never had the chance to tell me her name since Sato-sensei was busy groveling at her feet begging her to join the volleyball team."

            "Really?  She must be very good then."

            "Very good is an understatement.  I heard her slamming volleyballs a few feet over the other side of the net."

            "Oh, big deal.  Anybody can do that."

            "But I heard her while I was in the main gym."

            Akagi's eyes widened.  A narrow corridor and a pair of double doors separated the main gym.  The only thing connecting the two buildings was the air conditioning system that served both gyms.  For sound to travel through air vents like that, she would have to hit the ball extremely hard.

            "Is she butch?" he asked as they sat on a bench by the clock tower.

            "No, very far from it.  She's actually very pretty."

            Akagi began to laugh.  "Hey man, don't fall for her, she might beat you up."

            "Shut up, Gori.  You won't be laughing when you see her.  I mean, she's amazing, man.  She can jump half her height!"

            "You're kidding."

            "No crap, Akagi."

            "How do you know she can hit the ball a few feet over the net?"

            "After I found out I wasn't alone at the gym, I walked over to the annex gym and watched her with Sato-sensei."  Mitsui took out a textbook and some paper.  "I've never seen Sato-sensei look so desperate before."

            Akagi took out an apple from his backpack.  "Well, what else did you find out about her?"

            "Her name is Reiko, I think."

            Munching on his apple, Akagi ruminated on the name.  "Hm, I don't know anybody by that name.  She goes to school here, right?"

            "Sato-sensei said she doesn't, though he did mention that she practices there almost every morning.  Maybe tomorrow I can give this back to her."  He dug in his pocket and produced the oval piece of metal in his palm.  "I think she dropped it."

            Akagi leaned forward and eyed it.  After taking another bit of his apple, he said, "It looks like some kind of locket."  
            "A locket?"  
            "Yeah.  Haruko has one kinda like it, but that one's much nicer."  
            "This thing?  It just looks like a piece of shiny metal to me."

            "No, man, I think that's platinum."

            Mitsui just stared at the oval piece in his palm.  He replayed the morning's events in his head.  The four men and the black vehicle.  Were they some sort of bodyguard entourage?  Was she someone important?  
            "Akagi, do you know of anybody famous attending this school?"

            His friend sat as he chewed on his apple.  "Well,… there's that snobby model you often see on TV.  Other than her, I know of nobody special.  Why do you ask?"  
            "That Reiko girl got into a black Suburban with four guys in black suits."  
            Akagi shrugged.  "Maybe she's the daughter of a senator."

            "Who knows?"

            "Maybe Sato-sensei knows."  
            "You're right."  Mitsui replaced the oval piece in his pocket.  "Hey, you shooting hoops later with the guys?"  
            Akagi threw his apple core in the trash.  "You know it.  You're showing up, right?"  
            "If I finish this physics homework, I will."  
            "All right, man, see you later then."  
            After his classes, Mitsui stopped by the annex gym and saw Coach Sato practicing with his team.  The girls on the team waved to Mitsui as they played.  They all knew he played basketball and was quite popular with others in school, either because of his thugging days or because of his illustrious basketball career back in high school.  Mitsui declined the college's offer to play basketball because of a promise he made his mother to give his knee time to heal from his previous injury.  Much to the chagrin of the basketball coach, he was still welcome to join at any time and they prayed it would be soon.  In the meantime, he played lightly on his own or with his old team for fun.  Coach Sato held morning practices for his team and was always asked by Mitsui if he could play in the neighboring gym.  They struck a friendship as the months passed, and the girls on the volleyball team always liked it whenever Mitsui came by since their coach would unknowingly give them longer breaks from their relentless skills. 

            "All right, Sayuri-chan, take my place.  Let me see what Mitsui wants."  As the coach walked towards Mitsui, he yelled over his shoulder.  "And no slacking off!"

            A resounding 'hai' filled the gym.

            "Hey, Sato-sensei.  I was wondering if you can tell me something."

            The coach sat down on the bench.  "Shoot."

            "The girl from this morning, Reiko-san?  What's her last name?"

            Coach Sato looked pensively at the ground.  "I'm not too sure, but I think it's Nakamichi.  Nakamura?  Nakayama?  No, it's more like Nakamichi."

            "Do you know how old she is?"  
            "Don't know exactly, but I think she's around twenty, maybe twenty-one."

            "Is she somebody famous?"  
            The coach laughed.  "To me, she's a superstar.  But not too many people know about her, I suppose."

            "Why do you suppose that?"  

            "I never see her around except the mornings.  She doesn't go to school here, even though the president himself wrote me a memo to allow her access to this gym.  She's always alone."

            "What about those guys in suits who wait for her outside the gym?"  
            "Don't know.  I figured it was her business."

            Mitsui sat beside the coach on the bench and watched the girls play.

            "Are you interested in her?"

            "You mean do I like her?"

            The coach nodded.

            "Of course, I'm interested in her, but more so because she dropped this on the floor," he said as he showed him the oval piece in his hand.  "I found it this morning and figured it was hers."  
            "Man, Mitsui.  You sure know how to get a girl's attention.  That's the old is-this-yours routine."

            Mitsui rolled his eyes.  "Whatever, Sato-sensei."

            The coach's laugh subsided and he got up to tell the girls to repeat the drills.  Before he joined them on the court, he turned to Mitsui and said, "If you can get Reiko-san to show up willingly to a practice, I will be the nicest friend you will ever have."

            "Yeah, that's if I see her again."

            "Oh, you'll see her again, lover boy."

            With that, Mitsui got up, waved goodbye and left.  

            // Lover boy? //

              
            

              
            


	2. Chapter 2

            The following morning he got up extra early to do his daily routine.  He stopped by Coach Sato's office and found a note taped to the door saying, 'Gym is already open.'

            He went to the main gym and put his bad gown by a chair.  He sat down on the ground and began stretching when he heard the double doors of the side entrance of the annex gym open.  Mitsui got up and took the oval piece from his bag and hurriedly ran through the doors.  He tried opening the side double doors of the annex gym and wasn't surprised to find them locked.  He rounded the corner as he did before and looked through the rectangular windows to make certain it was she.

            Indeed it was, though she looked very different.  Her hair wasn't in a braid, it hung past her shoulders almost to her elbows.  She rummaged through her bag and found a ponytail holder.  She then began to braid her hair from the top of her head all the way to the end.  She stood up and tore away the warm-up pants she wore and flung it at the bench where her things lay.  Mitsui instantly looked away, thinking she might not have anything underneath.  After a second his eyes rested back on her, this time relieved that she had shorts on.  Very form-fitting shorts.

            He opened one of the doors and she was startled by his presence.  He waved at her.

            "Sorry to scare you like that.  It's only me."

            She relaxed with recognition as he came closer.

            "Mitsui-san from yesterday, am I correct?"  
            "You got it.  And you're?"

            She smiled.  "That's right, I never introduced myself.  Forgive my impertinence."  
            He was stunned at her politeness.  "Oh no, it's no big deal."  
            "Nakamichi Reiko," she said, extending her hand.  "Pleased to meet you again, Mitsui-san."

            Not knowing where his shyness was coming from, he gently took her hand and shook it.  "The pleasure's all mine, Nakamichi-san."  For a moment, he was caught in a reverie, gaping at her smiling eyes of gray.  The handshake ceased by the still held her hand.  

            "Mitsui-san?"

            He blinked and came to his senses.  He immediately let go of her hand.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare."  After a brief moment of silence, he held out his other hand and showed her the oval piece.

            "Is this yours?  I found it on the floor yesterday morning after you left and I thought you might miss it."

            Her eyes grew wide at the sight.  
            "Oh my gosh, you found it!"  she exclaimed with delight.  She took the oval piece from his palm and enclosed it in her hands which she brought against her forehead.  The look of relief on her face made him feel like a hero.

            "I looked all over for this yesterday.  Thank you so much!"  she said as she bowed before him.

            Mitsui was at a loss for words, though he was certainly pleased that he made her happy and smile.

            She walked to her bag and stowed the precious item away.  She then took a piece of paper from a stack beside her bag.  "I was so worried, I even made flyers out in case someone found it.  You've saved me the trouble."

            "I'm glad I could help."  
            She voiced her gratitude again and gave him a smile that magnetized his gaze to her.  He found himself smiling back.

            // Was she this beautiful yesterday? //

            "You know, a lot of people would have just kept it.  I thought I've lost it for good.  That pendant means so much to me.  I can't thank you enough."

            Mitsui shrugged it off.  "Maybe I was meant to find it."

            She looked back at her bag then at Mitsui.  "Maybe," she said as she grinned.  "I hope you weren't troubled by it."  
            "Not at all."  Mitsui paused to look at the clock that hung in the gym.  "I didn't mean to take up your time, I know you have to practice."

            She gently shook her head.  "No, you didn't take up much time at all.  I was just about to stretch out."

            "Oh, mind if I joined you?"  
            "Be my guest."

            They sat down on the wooden floor and counted off as they stretched their limbs and backs.  Mitsui couldn't help but notice how limber she was.  Reiko could hug her legs while they were stretched out, and there was no look of straining on her face as she did so.  He was reminded of some ballet dancer.

            "Well, I guess I'll be shooting some hoops next door," he said as they finished the last set of arm stretches.  "Thanks for letting me stretch with you."  He stood up and extended his hand out to her.  She took it and he helped her up to her feet.

            "Thank you.  For the lift and for finding my pendant.  If there's anything I can do to repay you, please don't hesitate to ask."  She shook his hand and caught him blushing.

            "Just letting me be here is enough.  Thanks again, and I'll be next door if you need me."  
            Mitsui tore himself away from her soft touch with much reluctance.  She smiled and waved her hand at him, that hand that felt so tender and smooth to hold in his.  As he walked through the gym doors, he silently cursed himself for being such a wuss, acting like a little schoolboy in front of her.

-xoOox-

            Akagi slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way to the usual bench where he and Mitsui sat to chill.  The leaves were turning a dark shade of red and they floated in numbers down to the ground.  He noticed the bench was covered with them, and so was Mitsui.

            "Hey, man.  You all right?" he asked as he brushed some leaves off the seat.

            Mitsui snapped out of his trance.  "What's that?"

            Akagi sat down.  "You feeling okay?"  
            Mitsui ran his fingers through his hair.  "Yeah, I'm all right.  It's just, something's been on my mind."

            "Wanna tell me?"  
            "It's kind of embarrassing."

            "I'll be the judge of that.  So spill."  
            Mitsui recounted the events of that morning to his teammate, his cheeks reddening intermittently at the mention of his stretch partner's name that morning.  Akagi nodded in understanding, taking an occasional bite off his apple.

            "Well, you obviously like this girl."

            "Well, yeah, she's really nice, but there's something else."  Mitsui took his basketball out of his bag and spun it on his finger.  "It's just that, there's something kind of mysterious about her.  I mean, what's with the men in black?"

            "She's probably someone famous we don't know."

            "And she caught me gawking at her, not once but twice!  That was pretty lame of me."

            "I'd say.  But she doesn't sound like a snob, so it's not gonna matter how lame you look."

            "Oh, thanks for the support."  Mitsui threw the ball at Akagi, making him choke on his bite of apple.

            "Hey, I **was** giving you support.  You know, that last name kind of rings a bell.  Nakamichi, right?"  
            "Yeah."

            "Well, I'll give it some thought."  Akagi got up and secured his backpack on his wide shoulders.  "And quit looking like you're stoned, man.  I'll see you at the court later with the guys.  Oh, they're gonna get a kick out of your googly-eyed face."

            Mitsui met up with Akagi at their old high school gym.  Hanamichi and Rukawa were now the seniors and the leaders of their current basketball team, and they always scrimmaged with their former teammates.  The season had just started for them, and the recruits were looking rather raw.

            After separating the freshmen into teams, the college boys approached the unseemly pair of captains on the court.

            "Gori!  Are you back for another beating?" the redhead greeted.

            "Shut up, carrot top!  Let's see who'll be shaking in their panties on the court later."

            "That will be you, Gori, for this genius won't fail to humiliate your skirt-wearing ass!  Nyahahahaha!"

            Mitsui greeted Rukawa and Hanamichi with a handshake.  His eyes scanned the gym, looking for their point guard.  "Where's Miyagi?"  
            "Out on a date with Ayako-san," chimed the redhead.  "I'm glad those two are together now, thanks to this genius' advice."

            "Aho!  They nearly didn't get together because of your stupid advice!" retorted Rukawa.

            They were about to get at it again until Akagi hit them both on the head.

            "Jeez, you're wasting time fighting over nonsense.  Let's just play, okay?"

            They scrimmaged for an hour and practice was over in no time.  Some of the freshmen were quite good, but none as surprising as the current team captains were.  It was good practice playing against the veterans of Shohoku basketball, and the new players learned much from the scrimmage.

            "Job well-done!" everyone cheered.  The players were dismissed, and all who remained were the captains and old champions of Shohoku.

            They played around some more, a little two-on-two as Hanamichi suggested, and after an hour and half of play, the troupe crashed on the bleachers, Hanamichi and Mitsui collapsed ungracefully on the floor.

            "You know, this sucks," Hanamichi mumbled as he gasped for air.  "This is the third time this week we've tied.  Who the hell's gonna pay for dinner?"

            Breathing heavily, Akagi leaned forward.  "At this rate, no one will win this bet."  
            After a moment of catching their breaths, Hanamichi asked, "So, how's college life?"  
            Mitsui shrugged his shoulders.  "It's all right, I guess."  
            Akagi's face lit.  "Oooh, it sure is _all right_.  Mitsui here met somebody."

            Oohs and aahs filled the gym which prompted the shooting guard to wave them off.

            "It's not like I know her or anything."

            "But you got her name, right?" Hanamichi beamed.

            "Yeah, but that's about it."  
            "Come on, Mitchy!  How'd you meet her?"  
            "I saw her playing volleyball in the annex gym alone.  The volleyball coach at school is on the verge of tears, he asks that girl almost everyday to play for his team.  And guys, I thought Hanamichi could jump high, but she can soar!  I mean, no offense, Hanamichi, but when you jump it's like watching an awkward hawk trying to fly."

            "Hey, what's wrong with my vertical?"  
            "Nothing.  I'm just saying it's not as graceful as hers."  
            The redhead frowned and crossed his arms.  "Well, what the hell do you want me to do, wear a freakin' tutu?"  
            "I'd pay money to see that," snickered Akagi.

            "It won't be worth it," Rukawa mumbled.

            "Okay, shut up both of you, this is Mitchy's moment.  Go ahead, Mitchy."  
            "Well, there's not much to say after that.  Coach Sato said she doesn't go to school there, but the president of the school himself sent a memo to Coach Sato giving Reiko-san permission to use the gym."

            "So that's her name, huh?"  
            "Yeah, Nakamichi Reiko."  
            "Does that ring a bell to you guys?" Akagi asked the two captains.  Both shook their heads. 

            "Do you know which school she attends?" asked the redhead.

            It was Mitsui's turn to shake his head.

            "Did you ask her for her phone number?"  
            "No."

            "Why the hell not?"

            "I want to get to know her, not scare her away!"

            "Well, how're you gonna get to know her if you don't have her number?!"

            Akagi threw the ball at Hanamichi's head.  "He's not lame with girls like you are, stupid.  Besides, she practices at the annex gym every morning.  Right, Mitsui?"  
            The shooting guard nodded.

            "Well, why didn't you say so?" Hanamichi grumbled, throwing the ball back at Akagi and touching his newly acquired bump on his head.  "Damn you, Gori…"

            They all laughed.  After the chuckling subsided, Hanamichi stood up.  "Well, I don't know about you stinky losers, I'm hitting the shower."

            He threw the pencil in his hand down the desk and plopped on his bed.  Differential equations absolutely suck.  He couldn't stand to do another problem in his head.  He stared at the ceiling fan and wondered why he ever majored in civil engineering.  Perhaps he respected his father's profession too much.

            He turned on his side and began to wonder about his basketball career.  He was a sophomore now and he though of his glory days back in high school.  He got a letter in the mail every other week from the athletics division of his college, the coach of the basketball team urging him to reconsider playing for the school.  His weekly visits to the physical therapist were definitely producing results, and he could have signed on with the school last winter.  He also knew the fact that he's not in good shape as he was before, and basketball and winning were things he could do for fun, but never for a living.  Well, not never.  Old Coach Anzai said it was very possible for him to play professionally, though Mitsui himself was uncertain of how much basketball his body could take.  His mother had asked him not to make her worry with more injuries, though she knew that her son loved the sport too deeply to give it up.  They made that truce, even made him pinky swear on it, to give himself a break.  After the orthopedic doctor and the physical therapist cleared him for light practice, Mitsui had woken up early ever since to practice at the gym.

            He smiled when he thought of the gym.  In the early hours of the morning, it's just him, the gym, and her next door.  Reiko-san.  He wondered why she didn't play with anybody else.  Volleyball, after all, was a team sport.  It's kind of difficult to play alone.  But he recalled what Coach Sato pointed out:  she was smiling with every spike.  She obviously enjoyed it enough to be so good at it.  Perhaps she played alone like he, to get some focus back on a sport that was fun to play.  He could see it in her eyes.

            Her eyes.

            It was definitely odd for a Japanese person to have gray eyes.  Most of them have brown or dark brown eyes.  He supposed it was possible, but then he thought there might be the possibility that she might not be pure Japanese by blood. But that didn't really matter to him.  They were eyes that were beautiful to look at and they were heart stoppers.  

            He dozed off with that thought, a faint smile discernable across his lips.  


	3. Chapter 3

            With much eagerness Mitsui walked through the gym doors the next morning.  He was excited, almost silly, he though, because he clung to the hope that he'll see her again.  Leaving his things on the usual chair, he walked over to the annex gym and peeked through the windows of the double doors.  Men in black suits replaced the anticipated sight of her, similar to the ones he saw by the black Suburban a few days ago.  He squinted as he tried to make out a pair of tennis shoes among the black pants and shoes.  

            He could see her head shake past the broad shoulders of the men, it seemed like they were trying to convince her.  After a moment, the men dispersed, each on e going to a separate location: the ladies' locker room, the men's locker room, the side doors of the annex gym, and one was headed straight for the door from which he was peeking behind.  In a panic, he ducked and ran down the corridor away from the double doors, then he straightened up and played it cool as he turned around to make it look like he was just about to approach the doors.  They suddenly opened and one of the mend emerged as he put his sunglasses on.  Mitsui caught the door open and held it.  The black-suited man stopped to arch his brow. 

            "May I help you?"

            Mitsui steeled himself and met the man's veiled eyes.

            "I came by to say hello to Reiko-san."

            He gave Mitsui the once-over look and turned to address the girl who was braiding her hair.

            "Nakamichi-dono, Mitsui-san is here to see you."  With that the man turned and left.

            // How did he know my name? //

            Mitsui saw her look up from her braiding and motioned with her head to come over.  As he approached her, he noticed the same ponytail holder she wore the morning he first saw her clamped between her delicate jaws.  He observed that she was at the end of her braid, and he slowly reached out to take the holder from her mouth.  She looked up with a smile and released it from her bite.  Mitsui placed the holder in her hand behind her head.  Voicing her thanks, she secured her braid with it. 

            "Good morning, Mitsui-san."  Again, she smiled.

            // Don't be a wuss, don't be a wuss… //

            "Good morning, Nakamichi-san."

            She gently shook her head.  "Just Reiko.  My last name is too long."  
            "All right then, Reiko-san."

            She motioned for him to sit on the floor with her.  He obeyed.

            "Would you like to do stretches again?"  
            "Well, that, too.  I actually have a question for you," Mitsui said, not failing to notice the slight look of apprehension in her eyes.  "But you don't have to answer me if it makes you uncomfortable."

            She somewhat felt relief in his words.  "All right."

            "How did that gentleman in the suit know my name?"  
            She nodded in understanding.  "Oh, that.  Sato-sensei mentioned before that you were the other person who came here at this time.  It's their job to know."  
            The shooting guard nodded slightly.  "Oh.  Bodyguards?"

            Her gaze dropped to the floor.  "Yes."  
            An awkward silence fell upon them.  Mitsui didn't know what to say.

            "Mitsui-san, I'll understand if you do not wish to continue stretching," she said, almost in a whisper.  She sounded dejected it distressed Mitsui.

            "What makes you think that?" he playfully asked, hoping to lighten her mood.

            A bit surprised, she looked at him.  "You're not uncomfortable with being watched?"  
            "Should I be?"

            She looked down the wooden floor again, forming the words carefully in her head.  "Well, I don't know.  I thought it would be a great source of paranoia for anyone."

            "It'll be no different from playing basketball with a crowd watching."

            She wasn't prepared for his answer.  It's happened to her time and again.  Whenever people got to know her, they were intimidated by her bodyguards' watchful eyes into breaking all contact and communication.  Meeting new people became constant disappointments for her; like before she was forced to accept the outcomes of these situations and somehow still found a way to smile.  It may not be all genuine, but she brought herself to smile regardless.

            "So am I still welcome?" Mitsui sheepishly asked.

            She brought her gaze back to him, his chocolate-colored eyes intense and expectant.  Her own eyes, still full of wonder, slowly crinkled with her smile as she nodded.

            He inched closer to her and both of them stretched their legs out.  As he listened to her soothing voice count off, he then realized why she always practiced alone: it was a decision other made for her.  Why? He frowned.    The tone of her voice earlier sounded so despondent, as if she expected him to up and leave.  It must be lonely to play such a team-oriented sport all alone.  He imagined that ahead of him was a long line of admirers just like him, each one taking a good look and then walking away after they saw the hawks in suits.  He didn't want to be like that.

            He saw her glance his way as she sat folded over her legs and she smiled, and this time she looked astonishingly different.  Her eyes were of a different color, ones that matched a calm ocean, blue and intense.  It made him gape at her.

            Nearing the last count of their set, Mitsui interrupted her.

            "Reiko-san?"

            "Yes?"

            "Can I be honest with you?"

            She giggled softly.  "You mean you haven't been honest before?"  
            "No, I mean, yes, I've been honest, but… I just…" he trailed off as he watched her turn to lay on her stomach, stretching her abs slowly until she looked like an exponential curve on one of Mitsui's homework questions.

            "Just?"  
            Slightly shaking his head to snap himself out of his daze, he continued. "I have a lot of questions for you."  
            She let herself down to relax on the floor, her head pillowed by her arms and turned to Mitsui.

            "I know."

            // My God, she's stunning… //

            Uneasily he tried to swallow, but his cottonmouth wouldn't let him.  The way the halogen lights shone on the floor and reflected into her eyes made her appear somewhat ethereal, for never had he seen a radical change in one's eye color before.

            "Do you mind if I asked?"

            "Do the same conditions apply as before?"  
            "Yes, only if you're comfortable with it."

            She sat up to an Indian sitting position.

            "All right.  First question."

            Mitsui looked up the gym ceiling and scratched his head, making Reiko's lips bend into a soft smile as the image of a little boy crossed her mind.

            "Okay.  Where do you attend school?"  
            "I don't."

            "Oh."  He was a little surprised.  "So I guess you've graduated already?"  
            She unknowingly grinned at the question.  "Yes, I'd say that's pretty accurate."  
            "So that would make you, what… twenty-two years old."  
            She laughed.  "Close.  Twenty."  
            Impressed, Mitsui nodded his head.  "Wow, you must be really smart to finish college so soon."  
            She fiddled with her shoelaces.  "I guess."  She caught him staring at her.  "Next question."  
            "Right.  Where did you attend college?"  
            "In America."  
            "Did you learn how to play volleyball there?"

            "Yes."

            Like a child she let her feet sway to the left and right as she stretched her legs and supported herself with her arms.

            "You know, you're really good.  Will you ever dry Sato-sensei's tears and practice with his team?"

            She stopped moving her feet and squinted her blue eyes playfully.  "He sent you here to deal with me, didn't he?"  
            Mitsui shook his head laughing.  "No, I'm here on my own accord."  She joined in his laughter.  She then stood up.

            "Mitsui-san, I do not wish to distract you from your morning practice with this interview.  Do you not want to practice?"

            Again, her manners took him aback.  He got to his feet and stood next to her.  He towered her by about twelve centimeters, yet she was still quite tall for a Japanese girl.

            "At the moment, no.  You're more interesting."  
            He surprised her again for the second time that morning.  She saw his face redden at his words; he likely surprised himself also.  He looked at the gym clock.

            "I guess I shouldn't take up more of your time, Reiko-san."

            "You're not.  Do you have anymore questions for me?"

            He sighed.  "Do I ever."

            She arched her brow.  He scratched his head and looked away.

            "My next question is about –"  
            "Wait, wait."  She looked to the side and strained to listen.  "Do you hear that?"  
            Mitsui leaned towards her and listened for a few seconds with her.  "I don't hear anything, Reiko-san," he whispered.  

            She leaned towards his ear.  He could feel the heat within his skin rise as her breath descended gently upon him and her soft lips grazed his ear inadvertently as she spoke.  His breath caught.

            "It's my tummy."

            It was only a brief moment before she withdrew, taking her warmth with her.  He found himself able to breathe again.  He stood there, unable to move, his gaze magnetized to the blue glints in her bright eyes.

            "Are you hungry?" he stuttered.

            "Usually not at this time, I'm usually doing my hitting drills.  But yes, I'm quite famished."  
            His face brightened.  "Wanna eat?"  
            She nodded eagerly.  "But what's open at this time around here?"  
            "Well, if you go left onto the main street, there's a dim sum restaurant, but I doubt they're open now.  If you go right, there's a bakery just past the school.  They've been open since five."

            "I guess we'd better get going then."  She walked to her things and packed up.    
            "Does this mean I'm invited?"

            "Of course, Mitsui-san.  Who else will show me the way?"  
            His ears perked up at the request.  He never expected for the morning to be so fortuitous.  He tried to keep his cool as she smiled at him.  Deep inside, he was overjoyed.

            "Okay, let me get my things and we'll be on our way."  He hurried to the exit, almost bounding out of the gym and busted through the double doors.  He saw her outside where she stood with her men in black.  She was right:  they were intimidating.  They were about the same height as he, and they all looked like something out of a James Bond movie.  They eyed him closely as he came down the steps to the parked Suburban.

            "Is the bakery within walking distance from the school?" she asked.

            "It's pretty close."  He looked at the men behind her and whispered, "Are you sure it's okay for you to walk to the bakery?"  
            "Yes, I just told them," she whispered back. "Two will drive the vehicle there, the other two will walk with us.  Would you be comfortable with that?"

            He nodded and led the way, his esteemed stretch partner by his side with the two men in tow.  Most of the small businesses on the avenue were still closed, except for a magazine stand that was setting up for another business day.  Mitsui pointed out the shops that the students most often frequented:  the bookstore by the magazine stand, the arcades by the stoplight, and the coffee shop next to the bakery.  The men in the Suburban were already waiting for them.  They stayed in the vehicle while the others stayed at the entrance of the bakery.

            "Good morning, Mitsui-kun," greeted an old man behind the pastry counter.  "You're early today.  Who's your lady friend?"  
            "Oh, this is Nakamichi-san."

            She bowed toward the baker.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."  
            The old man cackled in laughter.  "Ah, such a pretty girl!  You're making this old goat blush!  Just call me Jii-chan, dear.  So, what can I get for you?"  
            She scanned the menu overhead.  "May I have a ham and cheese kolache, please?"

"Just one?"  
She grinned.  "Better make that two."

Mitsui ordered his breakfast, and he heard Reiko ask for several more kolaches in separate paper bags.  She told Mitsui to find seats for them while she handed out the bags to the gentlemen by the door and in the Suburban.  He noted their smiling faces and grateful nods as she beamed back at them.  She came back into the bakery and took a seat next to Mitsui.  

"That was really nice of you, Reiko-san."

"They might not look like it, but they're nice, too."

            Mitsui found it a little difficult to see past their icy stares and rigid faces.  So far, she's been the only one able to soften their stony appearance.  He asked her other questions he thought she might be comfortable with, like when she came to town, where she lived before, if she liked the Kanagawa district.  She answered him softly and politely, giving away her well-bred background.  He began to feel ridiculous listening to her voice; the words she uttered were magically melodious.

            "Do you have any questions for me, Reiko-san?"

            She paused to think after nibbling on a piece of bread.  "For today, only one."  
            "Fire away."

            "Why do you want to be my friend?"  
            "That's simple.  Because you're nice."  After finishing his last kolache he added, "And, because after I saw you play with Sato-sensei, I wanted to start a fan club."  
            She was tickled by the idea and a giggle bubbled from her throat.  He then recounted his practice and game days in high school where there would be an inexhaustible cheering section for another player on the team.  He was elated, almost with a sense of pride, that he could make her laugh and smile the way she was then.  His gaze frequented her eyes, a habit he refused to break.  He figured that if he were a moth to her eyes of blue flame, it mattered not if he looked pathetic or dazed.  It would be a glimpse of heaven either way.

            "How do you do that?"  
            "Do what?" she asked as her laughter subsided.

            "Your eyes.  How do they change colors from gray to blue like that?"  
            She paused thoughtfully as she gazed out the window.  "My mother once said it was a way to tell if I was happy or not.  How they change is something I can't explain."

            "So they're blue when you're happy.  And when you're sad?"  
            She shrugged.  "I don't know.  I never really look in the mirror when I'm sad."

            "In all honesty, your eyes are really amazing."

            She glanced down and mumbled her thanks, her face demure and cheeks slightly flushed.

            "And for that matter, I'd better do my best to keep your eyes sparkling blue."  
            Her eyes shot at him to find his face grinning back at her.  He wondered by she looked astonished at his words; perhaps she doubted his sincerity.  Slowly her fair visage eased into a coy smile.

            Time passed quickly as they talked of different times and of foreign places.  She glanced at her watch. 

            "You don't have any morning classes, do you?"

            "Yes, why?"

            "It's fifteen till ten o'clock."  
            "It's only physics class."

            "Oh, then it must be an easy class for you."

            "Yeah, an easy class to get lost in."  
            She laughed.  "Are you lost now?"  
            "Unfortunately so."  
            "Do you need directions?"  She was answered with a nod.  "Show me where you are now."

            Mitsui found himself huddled with Reiko over his textbook and homework for a good number of hours.  She pointed out his mistakes and solved problems with him, often explaining why it is what they calculated was right.  She noticed he was quick to learn from his mistakes that were mainly due to carelessness.  A plus sign here, a square root there.  He was appalled at the depth of her knowledge and the ease of her explanations.  He learned everything he needed to know for his next exam in one sitting from a brilliant, beautiful girl.  How can this be easy?  He gazed at his finished homework, the eraser shavings on the table and finally at the blue glints of his tutor's eyes.  And what a wonderful tutor she was.

            "Reiko-san, pinch me, I think I'm dreaming," he mumbled.

            "Why do you say that?"

            "Because… I'm sitting here in a bakery with my homework finished and perfect before my eyes and I have you, the goddess of physics, to thank."

            "You already knew it, Mitsui-san.  Your homework just needed a little polishing."  She looked at her watch again and it didn't go unnoticed.

            "Reiko-san, I'm sorry for taking up your time like this."

            Gently she shook her head.  "No, it's not that.  I'm glad to help you by all means.  I just don't want to keep you from you classes."

            "Believe me, you have taught me more in two hours than my professors have in a semester.  And besides, all my classes for the day ended an hour ago, so I have all sorts of time."

            She leaned back in her seat.  "What do you do with all this free time?"

            Mitsui hesitated to answer.  "Well, promise not to laugh?"  
            "That depends," she answered, a grin creeping across her face.  "But I'll try my best not to."

            "Okay, here it goes.  I do puppet shows for a day care center."  Mitsui closed his eyes and readied his ears for the onslaught of laughs he expected from her.  Hearing none, he cracked one eye open and saw her smiling expectantly at him.

            "That's really interesting!  May I see you perform?"

            Not quite the reaction he imagined, he replied, "I suppose it's okay, but you can only laugh when the children laugh, okay?"  
            "And if I don't?"  
            "They'll shush you till they're blue."  
            Both of them laughed out loud, forcing the old baker behind the pastry counter to look up from his newspaper.  He smiled.  The laughter reminded him of younger times, and seeing the young pair sitting before him brought back memories of afternoon picnics at the park and his wife's fingers combing through his hair.  // Ah, to be young again... //  Looking  back at his newspaper, he turned the page and decided that he'd take his wife out for dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

            Mitsui almost collapsed onto the bench in his old high school gym, and his former teammates followed suit.  The score of that evening's game was 42-40, Mitsui and Hanamichi's team losing to Akagi and Rukawa.  The champions gloated over their victory, while the unfortunate losers were sulking in their seats, waiting for the two to tell them where they wanted to eat dinner.  The losers pay, after all.

            "How about that little Italian restaurant by the lake?" Akagi suggested.  "I heard they've got some good lasagna there."

            Hanamichi scoffed.  "Oh?  Since when did you become artsy-fartsy about food?"  
            Akagi hit the redhead with the basketball.  "Ever since you had to pay, loser!  Enough whining, let's just go."

            Hanamichi shot Mitsui a pathetic look, only to be answered with a shrug.  It was half past seven, and after more whining from Hanamichi, crowing from the towering Akagi and a surprisingly verbal Rukawa, and eye rolling from Mitsui, they found themselves ducking through the entrance of the old Italian restaurant.  They made heads turn with their presence; their tall and built physiques made the old proprietor standing behind the reservation desk look up at them in awe.  Mitsui took his baseball cap off and approached the desk.

            "Good evening, gentlemen.  Do you have a reservation?" the old man asked meekly.

            "I'm afraid we don't, sir," Mitsui replied, fiddling with the duckbill of his cap.

            "Well, let's see what we can find…" The old man put on his thick glasses, licked a finger and turned to the next page on the appointment book.  Mitsui took a peek and found the page full with names. 

            "Gori, why the hell did you have to drag us to a high roller joint?!" hissed Hanamichi.

            "Shut up, carrot top," Akagi muttered as he glanced around, feeling eyes watch them.

            'Dummy' was all Rukawa could grunt.

            All their attention now was directed to the old man and the book before them.  Just before the proprietor could open his mouth to speak, a waiter came by and whispered some words into his ear.  The old man nodded his head and smiled at the hopeful gazes of his tall guests. 

            "It seems that a table just cleared for you.  If you'd kindly give us a few moments, we will seat you as soon as it is ready."

            The four towers voiced their thanks and took a seat in the waiting area.  Mitsui momentarily got up and gazed through the glass panels of the French doors.  He didn't expect the restaurant to be filled with such well-dressed people most of the men in suits and ties.  He felt out of place in the formal crowd, for he, too, felt the weight of discriminating stares from the haughty-looking ladies.  He tried to ignore them and listened instead to the soft tunes that came from the piano by the bar.

            "Hey, Mitchy, maybe we'll see your mysterious belle here," Akagi joked.

            "Good grief, I hope she's not here… She wouldn't be the type to wave her nose up in the air like some people here."

            "Hey, maybe if you say it louder they'll stop staring," muttered Hanamichi, whose mile-long legs were crossed, as were his arms.  

            "Gentlemen, this way, please."

            They followed the old man through the gawking faces of the patrons.  They were quite relieved to finally sit down and avoid the stifling looks, sticking their noses into the menus provided for them.  The first thing Hanamichi looked at was the prices and he nearly fainted at the sight:  the dinner entrees started from five thousand yen.

            "Five thousand yen for a bowl of pasta?!  Good Lord, that's a lot of money!"

            The three could only look at the redhead with daggers.  There was no doubt he would cause the three much grief and embarrassment.

            "Well, obviously none of us can eat a full dinner even with our wallets emptied, so what do you say we gracefully walk out of here?" Akagi whispered.

            "How the hell do you think we're gonna 'gracefully' walk out of here?" sniveled Mitsui.  "You and carrot head over here stick out like weeds on a golf course!"

            Akagi was about to ram a knuckled fist into Mitsui's shoulder when the same quiet waiter who showed up out of nowhere whispered into Mitsui's ear.  The men stilled and behaved themselves to watch the shooting guard's head bob up and down in half confusion, half understanding as he listened.  The waiter afterwards stood a few feet away from their table.

            "Well," Mitsui said with a relieved sigh, "it seems the gods really do smile on fools and children."

            "What do you mean by that?" asked Hanamichi.

            "The waiter just told me that dinner is on the house."  

            The rest of them blinked at his words.  Rukawa shook his head in disbelief, the other two were fixed to their seats with their jaws dropped to the floor.  Suddenly the redhead beamed and began to snicker.

            "What now, fool?" Akagi growled.

            "We must be famous around here, but I didn't know we were _this_ famous."  Hanamichi picked up the menu.  "Well, it would be rude to deny such a gracious offer."

            Akagi gave the shooting guard an inquiring look, and the latter just shrugged.  "We might as well stay, we'll do better eating than gracefully exiting."  Still confused and bewildered at the reversal of luck he and the redhead had, he hailed the waiter and began to order.

            Minutes passed and they found themselves eating the most savory meal they have ever had.  Rukawa just stared into space as his hand unconsciously shoveled food into his mouth.  Akagi's eyes closed every time he chewed his food, as if the flavorful zest of herbs flooding his palate would linger longer.  With every bite, Mitsui still couldn't believe his luck.  As the waiter came by with the dessert tray, soft cords from a mandolin were heard from the dining hall.  The men took their time making a decision, for the pieces of cake on the tray all looked so inviting.  While the waiter took their orders, Mitsui's head jerked at the voice filling the dining hall with song.  It was as though time stopped for him as he inclined his head towards the direction of the voice and listened.  The words were foreign to his ear.  He vaguely knew the song, hearing it once before from his grandmother's old record player.  It was melodious, almost lulling, and he found himself lost in the singer's voice.

            "Sir?"  
            Rukawa had to nudge Mitsui out of his reverie. 

            "Hey, don't you want dessert?"  
            A bit shaken, Mitsui replied, "Yes, yes I do… the chocolate one will do."  Before the waiter walked off, he asked, "Excuse me, sir, could you tell me who is singing?"  
            The waiter smiled at the question.  "That would be Reiko-san.  She usually just plays the piano for us, but tonight she chose to do something different."

            Mitsui's skin jumped at the mention of her name, his heart beat uncontrollably in his chest.  His companions looked at each other with devilish grins.  The waiter left and the men jeered at Mitsui who stared in disbelief.

            "Well, whaddaya know, Gori here was right!" Hanamichi cheered.  "So, are you gonna introduce us?"

            " You didn't tell us she could sing," stated Akagi.

            "This is the first time I've heard her…" he trailed off, lost again in her voice.  The song ended a few moments later, and the realization of her presence at the restaurant hurled Mitsui back to earth.  "Good Lord, she's here!  What am I going to do?  What am I going to say?!"  He was at the verge of pulling his hair out.

            "Calm down, man.  Just act normal.  Go over there and see her," advised Akagi.

            Hanamichi frowned.  "Mitchy, what the hell is wrong with you?  Get a grip!"  He nearly shook the point guard off his chair.  "It's not like you haven't talked to her before!  What, are you in grade school?!"

            Mitsui collected himself and took a deep breath.  He didn't feel comfortable with the idea of seeking her, talking to her in front of all these people with their suits and ties and glaring eyes.  He imagined she blended easily within this rich crowd, she had the manners and gentility he had seen first hand, though she was never one to stare at a person if their state of dress differed from the majority.  And she wasn't snobby at all.

            "So, are you gonna go over there or what?" complained Rukawa.

            He hesitated.  "I don't know, man.  It's just I don't feel right in this," he pointed to the crowd, "environment.  We were always alone when we talked except for her bodyguards, and we were in a very casual atmosphere.  I guess I'm just not in my element."  
            "Element my ass!" growled Akagi.  "Look, what would she think if she saw you here knowing that she probably already saw you and you didn't even stop to say hello?  Won't she think you're being a snob?"  
            Mitsui crossed his arms.  "And what makes you think she already saw me?"  
            Hanamichi palmed the top of the shooting guard's head and twisted it in the direction of the reservation desk.   "Did you fail to notice the baby grand piano by the bar?  Of course she saw your 'fraidy ass!  And everybody here was looking at us when we came in!"

            "Mitsui, it's obvious you got his by one of Cupid's little arrows.  And you may not notice that goofy look you have on your face like you were some kid playing with fireworks every time you mention her name, but I sure do."  
            "So do I," the redhead said.

            "I notice it, too," Rukawa mumbled.

            "So," Akagi said as he leaned on the table with his big forearms across from Mitsui, "take off that skirt you've got on, be a man and walk over there!"

            "All right, all right!"  He ran his fingers through his thick hair and smoothed his shirt straight.  "How do I look?"  
            "Like a guy."  
            "I don't see a skirt on, that's a plus."  
            Rukawa merely shrugged.

            "Okay, then."  

            Mitsui stood and nervously made his way across the dining hall, his eyes scanning the bar are for any sight of her.  He felt like he was forced to walk a plank that led to a tank of sharks.  It wasn't like she was frightening, she was very far from it.  He was one to keep his cool in place during encounters, but with her he was jumpy, maybe even a little clumsy, looking but not feeling steady.

            The restaurant was in the shape of an L, with the bar at the short arm of the L facing the lake.  He wanted to laugh at himself as he rounded the corner and saw the piano, because he was excited and terrified but at the same time felt as though he was walking on air.  He found her talking to the old man from the reservation desk, her back towards him and her hands in motion as she spoke.

            "I met the gentleman who runs the bakery by the university.  He was quite kind and his bakery reminded me of grandmother's kitchen."  
            The old man laughed.  "That old goat?  I know him, he and I used to play marbles together when we were kids.  Lost my favorite marble to him…" His eyes caught sight of Mitsui's tall form and alerted his pianist with a gentle pat on her shoulder.  "Your friend is here.  I'll go help at the bar."  
            She turned around and looked up to see a warm smile beaming from the shooting guard's face.  She returned the gesture.

            "Hello again, Mitsui-san.  It's a nice surprise to see you here."

            "I… I'm glad, very glad to see you here as well."  
            He blinked once at the sight of her smile, and there it was again, that feeling of helplessness that made him lose nerve to his tongue, leaving him with only his eyes to impart his unspoken words.  She wore a pair of black dress pants and a black blouse that accentuated her toned arms, and the dark color of her clothes brought out the azure depths of her eyes.

            "Did you enjoy your dinner?"  
            He nodded.

            "That's good.  I like their pasta here, they make it fresh daily.  It's just as good as their desserts.  Have you tried one of their cakes yet?"  
            Her question fell on deaf ears.  

            "Mitsui-san?"  
            "Answer her, you idiot!" someone hissed from the corner wall.

            Both their heads turned towards the same corner only to see the waiters walk past the corner and back.  Mitsui recovered and realized what an idiot he had been, both thankful and annoyed at Hanamichi's spying.  He shook his head in laughter and apologized to Reiko.

            "I was staring again, I'm sorry."  
            She giggled.  "That's quite all right."  She peered over his shoulder to look at the corner again. "Was that your friend?"  
            "Um, yes.  He's my clumsy friend who missed a basket and made us lose a bet, and that's why we're here."

            "A bet?"  
            "My old high school teammates and I play often and we had a bet going that whoever lost a game of hoops had to pay for dinner."  
            "I'm sorry you lost your bet, though I'm glad you don't look sad about it at all."  
            // That's because you're here now. //

            "Oh, I guess it's just because my luck has been unbelievably good lately.  The owner of the restaurant just gave us dinner on the house."

            He observed the expression on her face change from a faint smile into an amused grin, her eyes happy with shining glints of blue.  He allowed himself a few more moment to gaze upon her, a suspicion mounting in his thoughts as her playful grin betrayed some secret.

            "You didn't have anything to do with us getting free dinner, did you?"  
            She feigned ignorance, rolling her eyes to the side like a scheming child.  "Of course, not."  
            Mitsui squinted his eyes at her and she tried to avoid them, looking at her fingers as she tapped them softly against the table.  

            "Reiko-san, you're not a very good liar."  
            She inclined her head towards him, that resigned look on her face a dead giveaway.  She shrugged.

            "This restaurant is rather popular, reservations are booked a month in advance.  When I saw you and your friends, it didn't look like you were going to get a table, so I told Takumi-san to tell the owner that you were my friend."

            "And Takumi-san is?"  
            "Your waiter."  
            "Oh."  Mitsui scratched his head.  "But that still doesn't explain our free dinner."  
            Three heads sticking out from behind the corner wall, one of which was of a striking red color, caught her attention.  She nearly laughed.

            "You have rather nice friends who watch your back."  
            He turned to follow her gaze and discovered its literal meaning.  His stool pigeon teammates' heads poked out, and after blowing their cover, they waved at the pair.  Mitsui let out a sigh.

            "I'd better introduce you to them before they embarrass me any further."  He motioned them over to where they were, and the snoops emerged from their hiding place, walking single file like ducklings after their mother.  

            "This is Akagi, Rukawa and Hanamichi.  Akagi attends the same university.  Rukawa and Hanamichi are the senior basketball captains of our old high school."

            She greeted them with a bow.  "Nakamichi Reiko.  It's a pleasure to meet you all."  
            The three were surprised at her politeness, and Mitsui smiled at their reaction, motioning them to do the same.

            "Ah, so you're the famous Reiko-san we've been hearing about!" sang Hanamichi.  "Mitchy here can't stop talking about you."

            If Mitsui's sharp glare could kill Hanamichi, he would've been skewered dead.  Akagi noted this and smacked the redhead a good one on his back.

            "I apologize for his behavior.  He's had too much dessert tonight."  
            "I did not!  I just wanted to have a bit of Mitchy's weird dessert!"  
            Mitsui frowned.  "You ate my dessert?"

            "It was just a little bite," the redhead squeaked.

            "He ate all of it," Rukawa stated flatly.

            A very irritated Hanamichi scowled at Rukawa and Akagi could do nothing but sigh in resignation.  Mitsui was equally embarrassed.  He shot Reiko an apologetic look; his crew was just as rowdy as they looked.  Or perhaps it was just Hanamichi.

            "Do you work here?" Akagi asked.

            She grinned.  "From time to time."  
            "You have a beautiful voice."  
            "Thank you," she said, face demure.  "It normally isn't what I do here, I just play the piano."  She looked up at Akagi and noticed the surprised look on his face.  "Is everything all right, Akagi-san?"  
            "Yes, I'm sorry, I just…" he stepped closer and leaned towards her eye level, "I've never seen eyes like those before.  Do you wear contacts?"  
            She shook her head gently.

            "They're quite striking."  
            She looked over to Rukawa and Hanamichi and caught them staring at her, too.  Mitsui stepped towards her and whispered in her ear.

            "Don't mind them, they don't get out much."

            Reiko smiled from ear to ear, her eyes scanning Mitsui's three companions.  They were good-natured and light-hearted, and they act like they've known each other since elementary school.  The redhead kept uttering empty threats at the irritated-looking Rukawa, with Akagi trying his best to ignore the situation.  Despite their intimidating appearance, they had a playful side to them that reminded her of that occasional boyish look on Mitsui's face.  He tried to calm the bickering pair down but wasn't helping much.

            They all stopped to find Reiko seated before the piano, her fingers dancing across the keys as she played a Frank Sinatra tune.  She looked up from her ivory tickling.  "Would you like another round of dessert?"  
            They looked at each other's puzzled faces.  
            "Or perhaps some coffee?"  
            Akagi looked at Hanamichi and Rukawa, then at a crimson-faced Mitsui.

            "It might be best to decline your offer," he said as he gave Hanamichi a forceful nudge and rolled his eyes at Mitsui's direction for the team captains to see.  They caught on.

            "Right… because we have to do homework, and lots of it!" exclaimed the redhead.

            Rukawa just looked at him, monotonously saying, "We have early morning practice."  
            "I'm sure Mitchy here can stay for a while, but not us!" affirmed Hanamichi with a laugh.

            "Thanks for the offer, Nakamichi-san, but we really have to be going.  See you later, Mitsui."

            Taking their leave, they stopped by the bar to give their thanks and praises to the flattered owner.  After watching the trio walk through the doors, the old man threw a glance at Reiko and gave her a thumbs-up, the silent communiqué not missed by Mitsui.  She nodded back at him and continued to play the piano.  The shooting guard edged to the side of the piano and watched her fingers glide softly across the keys until she finished the song with a high note.  All the patrons were absorbed in their own conversations, and it brought relief to him to know that no one in their immediate surroundings paid them any attention.

            "I'm afraid I was wrong about my friends."  He took a seat next to her on the piano bench.  "They embarrassed me thoroughly."

            She observed him.  "You do not appear to be very agitated about that."

            He laughed.  "Well, because that's the way they are.  And I take comfort in knowing that I can do the same to them."  He looked around the restaurant, noting the faces of the smug patrons chattering away over their cappuccinos and tiramisus.  "I feel so out of place here."

            "How so?"  
            "Well, for starters, these people are dressed so nicely, and look at me in my very casual shirt and jeans."  
            She looked at him.  The muscle planes of his chest and muscular arms were prominent underneath his tucked shirt.  She thought him normal, and it wasn't like he was dressed like a clown.  "I do not see why that matters."  
            "You don't?"  
            "Not at all."  She began to play a new song on the piano, raising her eyes from the keys to the dining crowd.  "Dressing in nice clothes doesn't make you a nice person.  Take that man with the cigar at the far corner.  He often dines here, dressed in the finest suits with a different woman clutching his arm every week.  He always snaps at the waiters and at one time even yelled at Yoshi-san for the most trivial of things."  
            "Yoshi-san?"  
            "He's the old gentleman who runs the restaurant."  
            Mitsui shifted in his seat.  "I can probably relate to that."  
            "Has anyone been mean to you before?"  
            He chuckled.  "I've been on both sides of the fence.  But I've decided to stay on the sunnier side."

            Her gaze continued to observe the crowd.  "Mitsui-san, it's hard to imagine you sitting on the stormy side of the fence."  
            "Well," he said as he shuffled his feet.  "I'm afraid that if I tell you about it, you might whistle for your guards to jump me."  
            After sounding a low note, she stopped and turned towards Mitsui's slightly flushed cheeks.

            "You don't have to tell me anything if you're not comfortable."  Her tone was reassuring.  

            "Mine isn't so much of a secret.  Everyone I went to high school with knows about it, it's like a scar."  
            She stood up and walked to the table behind them.  As if on cue, the old man Yoshi came by and placed two cups of coffee before her.  Reiko looked at the shooting guard as she patted the chair beside her.  He complied and sat down.

            "Coffee?"

            "Yes, thank you."

            The waiter who previously served Mitsui came by with two plates of dessert.  Reiko asked him to try his first, and after giving it his approval, she proceeded to eat her tiramisu.  The patrons were slowly decreasing in number, and the restaurant got quieter with each departing party.  He quietly watched the waiters scurry about, putting away the used china and placing fresh tablecloths on the tables.  The clang and clatter of silverware echoed through the dining hall as the busboys picked them up and disappeared into the kitchen.  Only a few couples were left now, their sighs and whispers audible in the nearly empty room.

            "That song you sang," Mitsui began as he drank his coffee.  "I remember hearing that song at my grandmother's when I was a kid."

            "Yes, it's quite old.  It's Yoshi-san's favorite song."  
            "That was nice of you to sing it for him."  
            She chuckled.  "It was more of a barter, really."  
            Mitsui eyed her with skepticism.  "That's how our dinner got paid, isn't it?"  
            Rolling her eyes as before, she shrugged.  "It was Yoshi-san who made the deal, not I."  
            He looked around the room.  "Where are your guards?"  
            She finished the last piece of her dessert before answering.  "They're outside having a drink."

            They sat in comfortable silence, occasionally looking at the few couples at their tables, hearing their quiet laughter.  Old man Yoshi came once more to retrieve the plates and cups, nodding politely at the shooting guard.  He introduced himself as did the old man, the latter excusing himself to the kitchen.  

            "Your friends seemed lively tonight."  
            He sat back in his chair and sighed.  "They can be really crazy, but they're good guys."  He fiddled with the napkin on his lap.  "Thank you, by the way, for dinner.  We were about to pick up and leave after seeing the prices on the menu."  
            "You are welcome."  She looked outside the window at the lights reflecting from the lake.  "It was good to sing again."

            He held his gaze steady at her, noting the sudden look of sadness on her face.  He had seen that look before, the one that made her eyes lose their cerulean shade.  "Reiko-san, is something the matter?"  
            She whipped her head back towards him, trying to shake the gloom from within.  "Oh no, nothing at all."  
            "Tsk tsk tsk," he sounded as he shook his finger at her.  "Like I said, you're not a very good liar, Reiko-san."  
            She was forced to smile at his observation.  She knew he had been studying her face all along, and she disliked the fact that her eyes betrayed her every emotion.

            "That's okay.  The same rules still apply with disclosing information.  Only if you're comfortable."  
            She looked down at her hands, unconsciously drawing imaginary lines on the tablecloth.  She felt odd, though strangely soothed, by the basketball player's light humor and presence.  Why was that?  She had only known him for a short time.  Very seldom did she have someone across from her at the dinner table.  She pinned that feeling as seclusion, and someone seeing and talking to her more than twice after being acquainted was something she didn't expect at all.  She wondered if she had forgotten how to act around other people.

            The shooting guard broke the silence.  "I used to be in a gang."  
            Reiko was pulled from her thoughts when she heard him speak.  Her attention focused on Mitsui's face, that familiar look of regret in his eyes.

            "I used to pick on people, and in many cases, I beat them up.  I don't know how I got into a gang to begin with, but I think it started when I got injured and I couldn't play basketball my freshman year in high school.  I felt like I had to blame something or somebody, and instead of looking inside myself, I picked on someone a year younger than me on the basketball team.  I beat him into a bloody pulp and sent him to the hospital.  In turn, he punched my two front teeth out and sent me to the dentist."  
            By the end of his confession the last of the patrons had left, and she could hear his breathing quietly in the stillness of the room.

            "I have not noticed any of your teeth missing, if it's any consolation to you, Mitsui-san."

            He smiled and nodded.  "That's because I had fake ones screwed into my jaw bone."  He shifted in his seat again and rested his elbows on the table, leaning toward her.  "But you don't have to pity me.  At least now I can stop singing 'All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth.'"

            The smile he got from her was genuine; her eyes were blue and bright once more.

            "I'm telling you this because I don't want you to be afraid of me.  I'm even a bit surprised that you don't look at me in a dark way.  Maybe it's because you don't attend school around here and you haven't heard about it.  I would rather you know from my own mouth than from anybody else's."  His voice was nervous, and he stole a glance at her.  This girl was very different.  She didn't appear disgusted at his previous vices, and her eyes didn't look down on him.  Instead, he watched her hand reach across the table to touch his.

            "You are a different person now, Mitsui-san, though I think you have always been a nice person.  You lost something very important to you, and perhaps it threw your balance off.  You are very fortunate, though, because what you lost you were able to retrieve.  And for that, I envy you."

            She took her hand away and sat there, observing him across the table with unclouded eyes.  It took two year, two lost teeth and a beating to finally realize what had eaten him inside several years ago.  It only took her a few minutes to figure him out.  He was astonished and relieved.

            He combed his fingers through his hair, looking away to hide from her knowing eyes.  // At least she's not afraid of me. // From the far corner of his eye he saw the old man approach them with two more cups of coffee.  He placed them on the table.  Reiko asked for him to sit with them, and the man sat and spoke with them, mentioning to Mitsui that he watched him play in the Interhigh finals, and that he lost ten thousand yen to a friendly bet with the old baker by the university.  The old man was awed by his shooting skills and asked if he was playing for the college.  Mitsui told him that he made that deal with is mother and ended with the saying 'never break your mother's back.'

            "Good boy, Mitsui-san.  But I'm sure the college coaches around town are not thrilled about that."

            "They'll deal with it.  I know I am.  I have a feeling it won't be long before I play again, though I haven't really decided."  He threw a glance at Reiko.  "I have been getting some help with my stretching, which helps me on my way to back to the court."  
            "Oh?  Reiko-chan's been helping you, has she?  Well, in that case, I predict you'll be playing again by the end of the month."  
            "Yoshi-san, since when did you become a clairvoyant?" she asked.  
            "I'm not.  You just have that kind of effect on people, that's all."  
            Mitsui smiled at the old man's words.  How true, he thought.  With Reiko, he always wanted to be in his best form, cool, well mannered.  He marveled at her; she was intelligent, charming, beautiful, and polite to the point of every mother's approval.  She must've been born with her hair already brushed neatly, her eyes bright, and her clothes already clean and tucked in.  He speculated she belonged to a high-class family, whose children all had etiquette classes every afternoon teatime.  Such a high pedestal she must stand on, and she was perfect compared to him and his tarnished high school background.  

            He noted the time on his watch.  It was late, and he asked if he could walk Reiko home.  She almost laughed and shook her head gently, saying that it would take a long time to reach her house on foot.  After thanking Yoshi for their meal, she suggested that her stretch partner hitch a ride to his home in her vehicle.

            Sitting next to her was the only comforting feature of the vehicle, though he was pretty sure the ever-stoic faces of the bodyguards was the main reason that kept him from enjoying the ride.  He didn't live very far from the restaurant, and within minutes he found himself in front of his home, standing by the vehicle's window where Reiko sat.

            "Thank you very much, Reiko-san.  I owe you dinner."

            "You owe me nothing, Mitsui-san.  Thank you for keeping me company."

            "Will I see you tomorrow?"

            She nodded.

            Just before the Suburban drove off, he called on her once more.

            "Reiko-san, what do you think it is I lost before?"  
            With a soft glance, she gave him a smile.  "Time, Mitsui-san.  Time."

            And with that she drove off, his princess in her black metal coach and her four suited coachmen.  


	5. Chapter 5

A little note:  I would like to thank and apologize at the same time to my readers who have waited a while for this installment.  It might be a little long and perhaps a little slow, but I hope you understand a little bit more about Reiko.  Comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated, and thank you very much for reviewing this humble piece.  I hope you enjoy.

Iron kitty

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He wasn't able to sleep much last night; he tossed and turned in his bed, kicked the covers and even placed his pillow over his head.  Always when he closed his eyes, he saw in his mind's Reiko's face, fair and beautiful, but her eyes were of the palest gray and tears spilled from their corners.  He called to her and she was unmoving, eyes glistening with tears.  Repeatedly he wiped them away, whispering words of comfort but to no avail.  He embraced her and she slowly disappeared, and he would wake up calling out her name.

            Five-thirty came at last, and he got up in a groggy state.  He sleepily made his way to the bathroom and got ready for the day.  Minutes later he was on the street, still half-asleep and rubbing his eyes.

            Arriving at the gym, he pulled on the door handles of the main gym but they wouldn't budge.  Sato-sensei wasn't there yet.  He set his book and gym bags down and sank against the wall.

            // _Definitely__ no more coffee after dinner. //_

            She came up the steps with her men in black and the two walking ahead of her stopped.  Pausing to look at them, she followed her gaze and saw her stretch partner fast asleep, his head pillowed by his gym bag.  She smiled at the sight; his sleeping face was boyish and peaceful.

            Coach Sato came around the corner and was a little surprised to find the shooting guard passed out on the floor.  He was usually awake and alert every morning.  He waved at Reiko and pointed at Mitsui.  She covered her mouth to suppress a laugh, and the coach walked over Mitsui's lone legs to unlock the annex gym for her.  She whispered her morning greeting as she bowed, the bodyguards leaving to take their usual places around the gym.  Before entering she paused to look at the sleeping shooting guard again, then proceeded inside.

            She set her things down and sat on the bench to braid her hair.  She sighed when she ran her fingers through it, it was becoming so long that braiding it became time-consuming.  Her fingers were very nimble, nonetheless, and when she finished she pawed around her gym bag for a ponytail holder.  The sudden opening of the double doors startled her, and she let go of the end of the braid, the silky locks slipping from their twisted form.

            Mitsui sprinted towards her and stopped abruptly when he got to the bench.  Catching his breath, he flashed her a sleepy grin as he sat beside her.

            "Good morning, Mitsui-san."  
            "Good morning.  Sorry I'm late, I fell asleep waiting for Sato-sensei."  
            "I know, I saw.  Perhaps I should not have kept you so late last night."

            "Oh no, I had a great time.  I think I drank too much coffee."  
            They spread out on the floor, stretching their legs and she counting off.  He felt rusty, and probably could use another four hours of sleep.  He looked at her folded body; her voice was steady and soothing as before.  She was out late just as he, though she didn't look tired at all.  Flipping over, they extended their torsos and stretched their abdominal muscles out.

            "How many hours of sleep did you get, Reiko-san?"

            Keeping herself steady, she replied, "About five.  Why?"

            "That's amazing.  You don't even look or sound tired."

            Extending her head and looking at the ceiling, she muttered softly, "I am tired in more ways than one, Mitsui-san."

            Sitting and stretching their arms this time, he laughed.  "I guess your cheerfulness doesn't let you show it."

            Finishing the last set, she got to her feet, offered her hand and pulled him up.

            "Thanks."  He stood and gazed at her blue eyes a while, recalling the flood of tears he saw in his dreams last night.  "Reiko-san, I'm sure you get a lot of rude guys like me staring at you.  You met three more last night."

            She laughed and shrugged.  "I always thought it was because of my silent entourage of men."

            "They can't be silent all the time.  Don't they talk?"

            "Not when I am around.  I think they're not too enthused in guarding me.  It must be incredibly boring for them."

            "Well, ask them to play with you."

            She tilted her head at him.  "I haven't thought of that yet.  Do you think they would want to?"

            "Who would say no to you?  I wouldn't."

            She walked over to the volleyball rack and took a ball.  "You trust me that much?"  Her eyes followed him as he took a ball from the rack and started dribbling.

            "Well, for starters," he said as he dribbled the ball between his legs, "you're not exactly the dangerous type.  And I trust you because I want to earn your trust in return."

            She smiled at his statement.

            "You know, you are the first person who has not asked me why four men follow me all the time."

            The truth was he had wanted to know the reason, but her reaction before when he asked if they were her bodyguards pained her, like she was reluctantly guarding territory that she wasn't ready for him to explore.  His curiosity was often quelled with one look at her shining blue eyes, reminding him of his promise to keep them blue if he could help it.  The details of her situation can come later, she was there with him and he needed nothing more.  She can tell him when she is ready.

"I just assumed you're someone important."  
"I don't feel important at all."

            "You are to them.  And that's why they're going to say yes."  Mitsui met her doubting eyes with an encouraging smile.  "Well, I'll leave you to practice now.  Oh, would you like to have breakfast again later?"

"Won't you miss your classes?"

Mitsui didn't have to think long.  "You're a much more stimulating lecturer?"  
She giggled.  "Do you need more help with physics?"

            "Among other things, actually.  If you help me, I would ever be so grateful."

            "Will you be working at the day care center today?"

            "Yes."

            "Well, then... we can pretend that your tutorial today is my ticket to see your puppet show."  She twirled the volleyball on her slender finger.  "How does that sound?"

            Mitsui could've made two hundred consecutive three-pointers and it wouldn't come close to how she made him feel at that moment.  Just like yesterday, one opportunity after another coupled with pure luck allowed him to spend more time with her.  He was so thrilled he forgot to think.

"Mitsui-san?"  
He snapped out of it, laughing as he racked the ball back onto the holder.  "I'm sorry, it's just you really put me in a good mood every time

I see you.  That sounds great to me.  See you in an hour then?"

She nodded.  "See you then."

He left the annex gym excited, feeling like he won a tournament.  Inside the main gym he exploded with vigor as he dribbled against

imaginary opponents and shot three-pointers from every point of the three-point arc.  
              // _Amazing, this drug called Reiko… //_

            The hour passed and Mitsui hurried to the showers and cleaned up.  Putting away his belongings in his bag, he took another look at the mirror before he stepped outside.  When he turned the corner to the annex gym, one of the double doors was already open.  He peered inside and saw Coach Sato sitting on the bench, talking to Reiko as she hit the balls that ejected from the setting machine.  The shooting guard walked to the bench and sat beside the volleyball coach.

"Hey, Sato-sensei.  What's going on?"  
"Oh, nothing.  The usual begging and groveling."

He laughed.  "I have to hand it to you, you're quite persistent."

            The last ball ejected from the machine and Reiko jumped to meet the ball and slammed it down the line.  She stared at the point where the ball hit, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.  Wiping the sweat off her forehead, she looked back at the bench where coach Sato sat and found Mitsui sitting beside him.  She whipped her head at the gym clock and cringed at the time.  She ran to the bench.

            "My apologies, Mitsui-san.  I lost track of the time."  She bowed to Coach Sato and thanked him for the pointers he gave her.  She quickly gathered her things and bolted to the locker room.

Coach Sato gave the shooting guard a proud grin.  "Mitsui, you are quite the Casanova."  
"Who?"

"Never mind.  You know, I've always thought she was the recluse type.  I should've figured you'd coax her out of her shell.

"Nah, she did that on her own."

"You guys have a date?"

            "No, just breakfast," he replied, cheeks warm at the thought.

            "Hey, that's how I met my wife."

            Mitsui's face reddened.  "It's only breakfast!"

            The volleyball coach rolled his eyes.  "Well, I don't blame you.  You're pretty popular around here and you're not even on the basketball team yet."

            "I don't know anything about that."  
            "Speaking of basketball, you think you're going to play soon?"  
            "It's been on my mind lately."

            "That's a good thing.  The basketball coach has been asking me to convince you of joining the team ever since he found out we're buddies."

            "And what did you say?"

            "I told him I'd try if I have spare time.  I've already got my hands full trying to convince your girlfriend to join mine."

            "She's not my girlfriend, Sato-sensei," he squeaked, looking away from the coach's teasing glare.  It's true that she wasn't, but the thought had been there and remained an unspoken wish.  

            The coach sighed and waved him off.  "You protest too much."

            Both their heads turned at the sound of the locker room door open.  She was preoccupied with the zipper of her gym bag, a stubborn snag making it difficult to close.  She wore a blue scoop neck shirt with khaki shorts and tennis shoes, and her silky hair was free from the braid. She tucked a stray lock that got in the way of her sight behind her ear and finally got the zipper to close.  She approached the bench with her lips bent into a soft smile.  

            // _Oh__, wow… //_

            "Mitsui-kun," the coach whispered as he nudged the shooting guard in the ribs, "I think you two make a great couple."

            // _I wish._ // He entertained the suggestion as he carefully watched her eyes shine brighter with each smile she gave the volleyball coach as she once again politely declined the offer to join the volleyball team.

            Coach Sato merely shrugged and said goodbye before leaving the gym, the two watching as he disappeared through the double doors.

            "You've become his morning habit, Reiko-san."

            She let out a sigh and replied, "It would not be convenient for anyone if I joined."

            "How's that?"

            "My men would attract too much attention."  
            "Are you sure it wouldn't be you?"  
            She blushed and gazed at the wooden floor.  "Mitsui-san, I have already agreed to help you with your lessons.  There is no need for flattery."

            "Well, then," he said as he grabbed his gym bag.  "I'd better get you to the bakery before you change your mind."

            They walked through the doors and were met by two of the guards.  She greeted them and asked if they could go to the same bakery as before.  One of the men talked through a two-way radio and they walked down the steps to the waiting black Suburban.  This time they drove to the bakery, the driver quick to park the vehicle in front of the brick establishment.  Two of the men remained inside the vehicle, and the other two stood outside the entrance.  Before stepping inside she asked if they wanted anything, and they politely said no.

            The old baker was happy to see them, his face crinkled into a grin as he placed freshly baked good in the display case.  She asked for a box of kolaches and a pot of coffee, and the old man knew to take them out to the men in suits waiting outside as he'd seen her do yesterday.  They were his first customers of the day.  He told them to sit at a table and asked what they wanted.  Moments later he brought a tray of kolaches and two covered mugs.

            "I want you younguns to try this drink.  My wife makes it for the grandkids, she left a bunch of ingredients here so I decided to make it."  
            "What is it?" Mitsui asked.

            "She calls it 'Sunday Morning.'  Go on, taste it."  
            They uncovered the mugs and took a sip.  Reiko's eyes widened and so did Mitsui's, the warm delicious liquid coating their throats with rich chocolate and raspberry goodness.

            "How is it?" the coarse voice of the old man asked.

            "This tastes like heaven, Jii-chan!" heralded Reiko.  She looked to Mitsui for confirmation but he was too busy chugging the drink in big gulps.  

            Pleased, the old man nodded.  "I guess all grandkids like that drink."  
            "How old are you grandchildren, Jii-chan?"  
            "Well, how old are you?"  
            "Twenty."  
            "Our youngest is nineteen, the eldest is twenty-two.  So they're right around your age."  
            Mitsui licked his lips after swallowing every drop.  "Jii-chan, that was amazingly good.  Can I have another one?"  
            "Only if you're good!"  He winked at Reiko when he took his mug.  He whispered into her ear, "I tell my grandkids that, too."  She was giggling when he left.

            "You must remind him of his grandchildren."  Mitsui took his textbook and a pencil out of his bag.  "That old man's such a charmer."  
            He opened the book to the assigned page of problems.  She peered into it, scanning the problems and looking over the formulas.  He moved his chair closer so she wouldn't have to lean over.  He took a piece of paper from a binder and showed it to her, numbers strewn across the page.  She took his pencil and followed the string of equations with its tip, all the while Mitsui gazed contentedly at the lines of her face.  He wondered what daily ritual she did to make her skin look so soft and smooth.  He nearly laughed at the memory of seeing his mother's face covered with mud-colored mask (exfoliant, she said) and cucumbers on her closed eyes.  He watched as his little sister spread the mud mask all over her face and took the cucumbers from his mother's eyes to place them on hers.  

            A man came in the bakery with two little children holding his hands.  The little boy observed the occupants of the bakery and squealed in delight as he ran towards Mitsui's table.

            "Mitchy-niichan, Mitchy-niichan!"

            Instantly his little sister saw Mitsui and let go of her father's hand and skipped to her brother's side.

            "Good morning, Mitchy-niichan!"

            The shooting guard's face softened into a grin and patted the children each on their heads.

            "Nonoko-chan, Sou-kun, how are you this fine morning?" he asked, his voice playful.

            "Fine!" they cheered.  Mitsui waved to their father.

            "Let me introduce you to someone very nice.  This is Nakamichi Reiko-san, and she's been kind enough to help me with my homework."  
            Both children bowed towards her, the little girl peeking through her bangs at Reiko's blue eyes.

            "Reiko-neechan's eyes are so pretty," she whispered loudly to her brother.

            The little boy climbed onto the Mitsui's lap and balanced himself against Reiko's shoulder.  She smiled at the child's studying gaze.

            "Yeah, and she smells nice, too," he whispered back.

            Mitsui broke out in laughter, the children tilting their heads in wonder at their laughing teacher and their blushing new acquaintance.

            "Nonoko, Sousuke, time to go," their father called.  They were quick to run to their father's sides and waved happily at their teacher and his pretty companion.

            "See you at the show, Mitchy-niichan!" the little girl cheered at the shooting guard.  He gave her a wide grin.  The children laughed as their father led them across the street.

            He leaned closer to Reiko and whispered.  "Hey, I've just recruited two more to your fan club."

            "You flatter much, Mitsui-san."  
            She twirled the pencil between her index and middle fingers.  She recalled the happy faces of the kids and thought of the carefree days of her innocent childhood.  She was full of curiosity and mischief, and her questions were endless.  She got into every thing.  Her parents used those traits to fill her with knowledge beyond what most kindergartners learned in school.  She learned Latin at six and the Romance languages by age eight.  A trip to San Francisco to see the Golden Gate Bridge became a lesson in mathematics of limits.  She was on such an accelerated rate of understanding concepts that her parents had a difficult time finding teachers to instruct her on something she didn't already know.  Full of 'why' questions, the Nakamichis finally arranged for several old professors from distinguished universities to take over her instruction.  Every day was fulfilling; she learned everything she needed and wanted to know inside and outside the classroom and her sage teachers taught her through examples in daily living, be it the chemistry of chocolate ice cream, the science of thunderstorms, or the immune cascade that occurred when her father's allergies erupted.  She was a natural when it came to learning an instrument or a sport, though piano and volleyball remained her favorites.  She took joy in learning anything she was introduced to, and her teachers delighted in her enthusiasm.  Her teachers missed having her as a student.  She missed the innocence of her youth.

            She heard a soft sigh escape Mitsui's lips and came to the realization that she was being watched.  It was not a surprise to her; she has been watched over most of her life.  She quickly looked back at his homework.  

            "Mitsui-san, your homework is all correct, but I can show you a way to shorten this proof."  
            She scribbled a few things down, and Mitsui was almost envious of her neat handwriting, his chicken scratch on the page looked like that of a five-year-old.  The old baker came by and gave him a fresh cup of his wife's Sunday Morning, and the shooting guard muttered his gratitude.  A few more customers came by and picked up kolaches by the dozens, and students from the university trickled into the bakery, sitting by the windows and drinking their coffee.

            He gazed at what she wrote, flipped the textbook pages, looked again at Reiko's answer, and then gaped at her in awe.  She used a proof they were not supposed to learn until next semester.  She returned his gaze as she took a sip from her mug, her azure eyes inquiring.  

"You are just awesome, I don't know what else to say."

            Just then a towering figure loomed over them.  It was Akagi, his backpack slung over his left shoulder and an apple in his hand.

            "Hello, Nakamichi-san, Mitsui."

            She greeted him with a quick bow.  "Just Reiko, Akagi-san."

            "Yo, Akagi.  Take a seat and prepare to be blown away."  He handed him his homework with a proud grin.

            The tall center took a seat directly in front of the two, perusing the document while taking a bite of his apple.  His eyes grew wider and wider as he read down the page.

            "Mitsui, this isn't due till the end of this week.  We haven't learned half of this yet.  How'd you do this?"

            The shooting guard leaned back in his chair and motioned his head towards Reiko.  "Not only is she every volleyball coach's dream, she is also a mathematical genius.  She was kind enough to offer me her help."  
            "More like she felt sorry for your butt and let you bully her into helping you," Akagi snorted, making Reiko laugh quietly in her seat.

            "Hey, we made a barter, right, Reiko-san?"  
            She nodded.  "I'm afraid he's right, Akagi-san."

            "See?  She's afraid!"  Akagi gave her a joking smile.

            "I will be watching his puppet show today at the day care in return," she explained.

            The three talked a while, and Akagi told them about the college basketball team's schedule.  Akagi was on the team, and he was recounting the beating they just received from last week's game.  He can't wait for a rematch, and he mentioned his wish for better shooters on the team.  Mitsui looked down on the table.  

            "Mitsui, I'm not telling you this because the coach told me to do so.  I'm telling you this because I'm frustrated that our team can't make a basket under pressure.  We're not a clutch team."  Akagi rested his head in his palm.  "I just wish you had a clone so we can win over that stupid team.  Three-pointers would be a great asset."  
            The shooting guard retrieved his homework and placed it in his folder.  Reiko noticed how quiet he had been ever since Akagi brought up basketball.  Her head turned to him as he spoke.

            "I've been thinking about it lately, Akagi.  I think I've been doing all right.  I just don't want my mother worrying so much, but I think I've waited enough."  
            "Hey man, I don't want you to rush into anything, and I certainly don't want you to feel pressure from me."  
            "I know, and I appreciate that."  He gave the center a nod.  

            Mitsui asked him if he wanted anything to eat, but Akagi politely refused, mentioning that he had another class in twenty minutes.  He took his leave and told Reiko not to be a stranger.  They followed him with their eyes through the entrance, the men in suits eyeing Akagi cautiously.  

            "What time is the puppet show, Mitsui-san?"

            Mitsui took a long sip of his Sunday Morning.  "After lunch.  Is there some place you need to go?"

            "Nowhere particular."  A faint smile came to her lips as she noticed the half milk mustache clinging to his upper lip.  She hesitated for a moment, then took her napkin and slowly reached out to wipe it off Mitsui's entranced face.  Her touch was gentle and it made the shooting guard's face flush.  His eyes remained on her bright ones as she withdrew her hand.  His heart beat faster, and he suddenly noticed how close he was to her.  He gulped.  

            "Th-thanks," he stuttered.

            He was answered with a smile and she averted her eyes to look outside the window.  He understood that she did it without saying anything so as not to embarrass him.  He sat in his seat and thought of how considerate she was of other people, and he wondered if she knew how he felt with every minute she spent with him.  

            "Like a hundred million yen," he unconsciously whispered.

            She turned to him.  "I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said."  
            "Huh?  Oh, nothing.  I guess I'm just babbling."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            They spent the next few hours before lunch walking around town.  Since it wasn't too often for people to see men in suits with sunglasses escorting two people, heads turned their way as they strolled down the sidewalk.  They passed by the local athletic clothing store where Mitsui bought all his basketball gear.  She stopped and tugged lightly on the shooting guard's sleeve.  She stood tiptoed to whisper into Mitsui's ear.  

            "May we go into this store?  I have an idea."  
            Mitsui eagerly nodded, and as he reached for the door handles, one of the men beat him to it.  A little bothered at the stolen act of chivalry, he ushered Reiko in first and followed behind her with the rest of the guards.  She asked Mitsui if he would kindly give her a few moments with them alone, and with a nod he walked over to the basketball section of the store.  Pretending to look over the jerseys hanging on the rack, he cast a glance at the four men surrounding his stretch partner.  He knew what this was about, though he hadn't a clue of what she intended to do.  Seconds later the men were looking at each other in quiet laughter, Reiko smiling and bowing her head towards them.  She looked past their broad shoulders and caught Mitsui eyeing them with boyish curiosity.  The men walked over to the shoe section and asked the clerk for help.  She watched them with a smile as she walked towards the shooting guard.  

            "Thank you."

            "For what?" he asked.

            "For your advice earlier this morning.  They agreed to play with me."  
            He grinned smugly.  "I told you they'd say yes."  
            She sat on the bench behind her and laughed.  "It seems you know a lot more about people's reactions than I do."  
            He took the seat beside her.  "No, I think you know just as much as I do.  You're just a little timid with asking."  And with that he gave her a gentle nudge on her shoulder.  Her eyes flashed blue as she smiled from ear to ear.

            "So what are they doing now?"  
            "They're shopping.  I didn't think they packed clothes for this situation.  It would be rather difficult to play in a dress shirt and tie."  
            He let a laugh loose.  "I'm sure they'd do it anyway if you asked them."

            She stood and looked at the blue LA Lakers jersey hanging on the wall.  Reaching up to feel the fabric between her fingers, smoothing it over.

            "Do you like it?"

            "I like the color."  
            "I know, it matches your eyes."

            She looked away and caught sight of a mirror hanging on the wall beside the rack.  Her eyes were the bluest she's ever seen them they look like they've been painted in.  A small grin crept across her lips, and she couldn't remember the last time she was so at ease.  As she glanced back at Mitsui, she silently thanked him in her thoughts.

            They walked over to the shoe section and Mitsui was surprised.  The guards looked very different in casual athletic clothes, and they could've passed for professional players with their height and build.  They were trying on some volleyball shoes and they looked like they were having fun.  The clerk entered the section with a stack of shoeboxes in his arms.  Mitsui stepped in to help out, he felt sorry for his friend.  They uncovered all the boxes and laced them up.  Reiko followed suit.

            The bodyguard closest to her leaned towards her.  "Nakamichi-dono, you don't have to do this.  We can lace it up ourselves."

            She waved him off.  "I'm not doing anything anyway, and it'll be faster."  She gave the shoe a good look.  "I think these would look very nice on you."

            His face suddenly interested, his gaze fell on the same shoe.  "You think so?" he whispered.

            She nodded.  "Here, try that on."  She laced the other shoe and handed it to him.  He gladly took it, fit his foot into it and tied the laces.  He stood and walked around, testing the comfort of the shoe.  His companions did the same, checking the chose out in front of the mirror.

            Reiko and Mitsui sat back on the bench opposite the ones they bodyguards sat on and observed the men.  

            "They look like kids in a candy store," he whispered.

            "This is the first time I've seen them enjoy themselves."  Her face lit as another idea came to mind.

            The men humbly asked for her opinion on their attire and she gave them a good look from head to toe.  She gave them her approval, complimenting them on their choices.  She asked them to get several more shirts and shorts along with extra pairs of running shoes.  Mitsui's friend the clerk walked back and forth to the stockroom, always with a stack of shoeboxes in his arms.

            The shooting guard's eyes stayed on his stretch partner who now stood in the sunlight pouring into the shop window.  Her hair was hung past her toned shoulders and its sheen reflected the bright rays of the sun.  Her gaze rested upon the people passing through the street. He could see her reflection clearly on the glass, her hands clasped behind her.  She was statuesque; the lines of her face were soft.  Fragile.   The vision of gray eyes spilling tears went against what he saw plainly in her face, the vibrant hue of blue alive in her eyes.  What he had seen and experienced with her was only the very tip of her being; he wanted to know what it was that made her eyes permeate gray on those few occasions he had seen her look away.  It was almost as if she wanted to hide them from him, her storm-filled eyes and all the emotions behind them.

            He approached and stood beside her, looking at a string of school children walking single file following their teacher.  He felt awkward at the moment, and he fought to silence the questions that swam through his head.

            "Nakamichi-dono, we are ready," one of the men said.

            She turned to Mitsui and smiled at him before heading to the counter.  Greeting the clerk, she took her wallet and apid for the purchases.  After being handed the receipt, she leaned on the counter and mumbled some words in the clerk's ear.  The guy nodded.  He offered his hand and she shook it, the clerk's other hand reaching for the back of his head.  He was blushing.  Mitsui grinned, finding his friend in the same situation as he had been many times before.  It's funny how every man she meets has the same reaction towards her.  

            Stepping out of the shop, she called on the bodyguards' attention.

            "Gentlemen, I know I haven't formally introduced you to Mitsui-san even though you are already familiar with him.  So, everyone, this is my friend, Mitsui-san."  
            The men gave the shooting guard a curt bow, and then each one extended a hand to him which he shook firmly.

            "Fuji."  
            "Sakai."  
            "Jackson."  
            "Miller."  
            "It's good to meet you all.  Again."  He heard them smirk as he let out a smile.  He didn't expect the last two to have American last names.

            "Well, I'm glad you're all reacquainted now.  Mitsui-san, how much longer do we have before curtains-up for the puppet show?"  
            He looked at his wristwatch.  "We have a little over three hours."  
            Glancing down, she followed the outline of the guards' shadows with her eyes on the pavement.  The sun made it a little warm to be walking around in suits.

            "Do you mind accompanying me into town, Mitsui-san?" she asked softly.

            "No, not at all."

            She asked the tallest bodyguard Jackson if she could go to another clothing store.  After nodding, he and Sakai left to fetch the vehicle.  She found shade under a tree in front of the sports shop and the men and Mitsui followed her.  He saw a pattern in the guards' formation: they always made sure she was in between two guards, and if the other two were present, she would be in the center of a quadrangle.  They were quite protective of her, and yet seemed to treat her with utmost respect.  There was a line between the guards and Reiko that separated them in silence, a line that she was making an effort to cross.  He heard the black vehicle pull up by the curb and they all got in and rode to the shopping district of Kanagawa.

            She and her stretch partner were dropped off in front of a clothing store along with Fuji and Miller.  The other two guards drove around to find parking.

            "They'll meet us inside, Nakamichi-dono."  
            All four walked in silence and entered a Polo store.  Miller mumbled something in Reiko's ear and both guards left to stand at the entrance of the store.  As soon as they were out of earshot, Reiko took a step back and looked around her, Mitsui studying her movements.  Her eyed were fixed on a metallic blue tie on the tie rack.

            "I've been thinking about it for a while now, but I thought the men would hate the idea."  
            "And that is?"  
            "Perhaps some other attire would make them more comfortable around me."  
            "I thought they were already comfortable around you."  
            She took a seat on the couch by the wall and sighed.  "It's hard to be comfortable around me after all they've been through."  
            Mitsui stood close to her and listened.

            "I've known Mr. Jackson and Sakai-san since I was ten.  They worked for my family.  Mr. Miller and Fuji-san's fathers also worked for my father.  I didn't really need bodyguards back then, my teachers served as my guardians and looked after me."

            "Teachers?"  
            She looked up at him.  "I was schooled a little differently."  
            He sat next to her and she continued.

            "One day they boarded a plane for New York that never arrived there.  A sudden failure in one of the engines caused the plane to crash off the city's coast.  Only twenty-four people survived, Mr. Jackson and Sakai-san were two of them.  The fathers of Mr. Miller and Fuji-san did not make it."  She took a heavy breath in and looked at her interlaced fingers as she exhaled.  "It was difficult to cope with the loss.  But despite that, Mr. Jackson and Sakai-san chose to continue working for our family.  Not too long ago, the sons of Mr. Miller and Fuji-san took their fathers' places."  
            She raised her gaze to the entrance and saw the other two men walking to the store.  She watched them take their sunglasses off and nod at the two who were previously with her and Mitsui.  Standing up, she turned to the shooting guard and surprised him with striking gray eyes.  She tried to smile as she spoke.

            "Sometimes I wonder why they continue to guard me."

            The store clerk asked if she could help Reiko to look for something and she nodded, asking if she could give her a few moments.  She walked outside and immediately the men's attentions were on her.  Mitsui noted the look of apprehension on her face, like she was about to introduce herself in front of a class on the first day of school.  He could hear her soft steady voice echo through the quiet store.

            "I was wondering if you needed or wanted more casual clothes to wear.  It's still quite warm under the sun, and these walks I've been taking must not be very comfortable for you.  I hope you find something less restricting and more relaxed for you to wear."  

            The men looked at each other and shrugged, then nodded.  They followed her into the store and she motioned the sales lady for help.  At the moment, the men were engrossed in choosing pairs of slacks.  

            Noting Mitsui's silence, she inched closer to him while watching the men look around.  

            "Mitsui-san, does it bother you that you don't know much about me?"  
            The shooting guard shrugged.  "I don't think that matters.  You're a very kind person and you've been quite nice to me.  That's all I need to know to make you my friend.  The details can come later.  That is, if you're comfortable."  
            She was secretly relieved whenever he reassured her that way.  She let a smile crinkle the corners of her eyes.

            The guard Sakai approached them and asked if they could give them an opinion on their clothing choices.  They held some shirts and pants in front of them for her to see.  Tilting her head to the side, she observed the lines of their features and shook her head gently.  She took another shirt off the rack and held it against Sakai's body.  She smiled.  She did the same thing for each bodyguard, almost like on an assembly line, and watching her pick clothes out for them amused Mitsui greatly.  She would take the fabric of each shirt between her fingers and feel for its softness before deciding to take it off the rack.  Asking if they wanted to change out of their suits, she watched as all but Sakai went into the fitting rooms.  Reassuring him that she would be all right, he entered the fitting room with some trepidation.   Now looking at Mitsui-san, she reached behind him and took a blue button-up shirt from the shelf.  Unfolding it, she held it against Mitsui, her fingers pushing gently against his broad shoulders.  

            "This is a good color for you, Mitsui-san.  I'd like for you to have it."  
            His eyes slightly widened and he impulsively reached for his shoulders, grazing the tips of her soft fingers.  "I don't really need a shirt, Reiko-san."  Her eyes looked confused as he met them, the gentle pressure of her fingers still upon him.  With the slightest hint of disappointment on her beautiful face, she began to withdraw her touch from him.  He caught her hands and stayed them against his chest.  "But I'm really clueless when it comes to fashion, and if you really want me to have it, I humbly accept it."  
            He will never get tired of that smile, he thought, and it was daunting to think that he was captive of it, making him want to agree to anything she wanted him do.  Noticing the blue glints emerge from her gray eyes made him think he was under some sort of sorcery, and he loved being a victim.  Relinquishing her hands, she looked down at the fabric and felt its soft texture between her fingers.  She made her way to the counter where the blonde-streaked sales lady who was previously helping the bodyguards met her.  The guards emerged from the fitting rooms with the price tags in their hands.  After the purchases were rung up, Reiko handed her a stack of cash, bills all crisp.

            They walked out of the store, the men toting their shopping bags and Mitsui walking alongside of his stretch partner.  Looking back at the guards, he was amazed at how a change of clothes could change a man's appearance.  They looked so much more approachable, and their facial features seemed to soften.  

            She suddenly stopped, her gaze still straight ahead.  Mitsui gently reached for her shoulder.    
            "Are you all right?"

            She looked down her abdomen, and instantly Mitsui knew.

            "Where would you like to eat?"

            She grinned and asked if they could eat some katsudon.  

            "This way," Mitsui said, taking the lead as she quickened her pace to even their distance.  On the way to the string of restaurants at the intersection, she stole a glance at the shooting guard and was caught, Mitsui looking straight into the pools of blue in her eyes.  She gave him a smile that mimicked those he received from the happy children at the day care center.  At that moment, he knew she was thanking him silently.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
            


	6. Chapter 6

He walked through the front door of his home in a happy daze, his gym and school bags almost dragging behind him on the floor. He walked past his astonished mother in the kitchen preparing dinner, and his gaping little sister doing her homework in the living room. Both mother and daughter eyed him up the stairs, watching as he ascended the stairs mindlessly like a drone, oblivious to the bags that hit every stair step on the way up. They looked at each other in wonderment.  
  
"What's going on with oniichan?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Thirty minutes later the table had been set and the shooting guard's father had just arrived from work. Father and daughter took their seats and Mrs. Mitsui climbed the stairs to her son's room. Finding the door cracked, she peered in and saw her son passed out on his bed with a faint smile on his face. She hesitated to wake him, and altogether decided to leave him be. Just before she could completely close the door, her son roused.  
  
"Mom, is that you?"  
  
Mrs. Mitsui reopened the door. "Yes, it's me. You looked so tired, I didn't want to wake you. Just go ahead and sleep."  
  
"No, it's all right," he said as he yawned. "I'm awake now. Is dinner ready?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He got up from the bed and walked to the door, only to be stopped by his mother's gentle tug on his arm. He saw the curious look on his mother's face, as if trying to plumb out a secret.  
  
"Did you have a good day today?"  
  
He thought back on the day's events and smiled dreamily. "As a matter of fact, yes, I had an extremely good day."  
  
His mother arched a brow. "Oh?"  
  
She studied her son's grin and remembered all the times he flashed the same goofy smile on his face: the nights of victory after basketball games, the day he was awarded MVP in middle school, and the warm summer night when he got his first kiss from the neighbor's daughter who moved away long ago.  
  
"Perhaps you could tell us more about this good day of yours during dinner," she enticed.  
  
"Maybe," the shooting guard teased as he descended the stairs.  
  
He greeted his father who was checking his little sister's homework. All seated, they proceeded to eat. The shooting guard's eyes were glazed at the memory of his stretch partner's face and those magnificent eyes of blue. At one point his chopsticks missed the piece of curry chicken on his plate and still he mechanically brought them to his mouth. His father looked at him suspiciously as he took a sip of his miso soup. Mr. Mitsui cast a glance at his wife who merely shrugged as she raised her brows. A look at his daughter gave him the same reaction.  
  
"Son, are you okay?" Mr. Mitsui asked.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I said, are you okay?" he repeated.  
  
He shifted in his seat and tore himself form his thoughts. "I'm doing just fine, Dad."  
  
"He sure is, Papa," his mother said, mischievously grinning at her husband. "So tell us about this wonderful day of yours."  
  
Their son glanced down his plate. From the corner of his eye he saw the expectant look of his little sister Ami leaning forward.  
  
"It was nothing really. I was just in a really good mood."  
  
"Really." Mr. Mitsui caught on to his wife's suspicion.  
  
"Did you win a basketball game against Akagi-kun?"  
  
"Actually, no, we lost."  
  
"I knew it," his father said after chewing on a mouthful of rice.  
  
Confused, their son scratched his head. "Knew what?"  
  
Mrs. Mitsui took her bowl of miso soup in one hand and closed her eyes before taking a long sip. Keeping her eyes closed, she put the bowl down.  
  
"It's about a girl," she stated.  
  
"What?"  
  
Taking in a sharp breath, Ami became ecstatic. "Oniichan's got a girlfriend, Oniichan's got a girlfriend!"  
  
"Yup, that's got to be it," confirmed Mr. Mitsui.  
  
"Wait, how are you so sure you're not jumping to conclusions?"  
  
Mrs. Mitsui cracked an eye open and smiled impishly. "You're never happy when you lose, Hisashi."  
  
"And you've been sitting there like you just turned off your brain, dreaming about her, no doubt."  
  
"Oniichan's got a girlfriend, Oniichan's got a girlfriend!" Ami chimed.  
  
Embarrassed, the shooting guard brought the palm of his hand to his forehead with a frustrated slap. "She's not my girlfriend!"  
  
Mr. Mitsui's face lit up. "A-ha! So it is about a girl! Mama, you're so good at predicting these things."  
  
Mrs. Mitsui nodded proudly. "Well, you know what they say, mothers know best."  
  
Both parents laughed at their crimson-cheeked son.  
  
//Guess I'd better 'fess up.//  
  
"Okay, okay. You two are just as bad as the guys."  
  
After the laughter subsided, Mr. Mitsui leaned his elbows on the table. "So, son, what's her name?"  
  
His discomfited son leaned back in his seat. "Her name is Reiko."  
  
"Oooh, what a nice name!" his mother exclaimed.  
  
"Is she pretty, Oniichan?" Ami asked.  
  
"Pretty?" He closed his eyes and instantly his stretch partner's smiling face flashed in his mind. He sighed. "She's not just pretty, she's breathtaking."  
  
Oohs and aahs escaped from his family's lips.  
  
"I mean, she's got this incredible smile that gives me this warm feeling in my chest." He shut his eyes and saw her once more. "And her eyes. her eyes are like dazzling blue sapphires that catch my breath every time I look at them." He paused to laugh. "She's always catching me staring at her, it's pretty shameless of me."  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Mitsui had unknowingly huddled together, her head rested on his shoulder and his fingers tangled with hers. This was the first time their son spoke this way about a girl. Even Ami had stars in her eyes as she listened to her older brother, her chin resting in her hand.  
  
He proceeded to tell them of how they met, about the dinner at the Italian restaurant, and what happened that day. He told them how smart she was, and how every guy who meets her for the first time turns to butter, no matter how old he was.  
  
"She's so nice, she helps me with my homework, and she's on such a high level of understanding, she could probably teach the professors in school a thing or two."  
  
Mrs. Mitsui went to the kitchen and came back with a tray of desserts and some tea. She was really happy for her son; several years back, he used to keep to himself and barely spoke to any of them. And now he was just a chatterbox full of admiration for this mystery girl the family had yet to meet. He had never spoken so highly of a girl before, and those who called on him when he was still in high school were all rude and impolite. Playing basketball again completely changed her son. It was like he got up one morning and decided to be a different person. He cut his long hair, became more disciplined and motivated, and he became more open to his family. After his knee injury she was afraid he'd return to being recluse, but she was quite content with how he was handling their little hiatus deal. She knew that her son would eventually play for the college he attended, and that he would give his all to playing basketball. She never expected him to be more interested in anything other than basketball, and when she heard him talk about Reiko, she knew her son had fallen hard.  
  
"Well, son," Mr. Mitsui started as he sliced his cake with a fork. "Sounds like you've got it bad for this girl." He grinned at his wife who smiled back. "When are we going to meet your girlfriend?"  
  
"Pops, she's not my girlfriend."  
  
"Yet," Ami interjected.  
  
Her brother groaned in his seat. "You know, I can't believe I just told you all of this."  
  
"It's good that we know now than later when we see you walk into walls with stars in your eyes."  
  
They all laughed at Mrs. Mitsui's statement. Her son sighed and resigned to eating his cake and drinking his tea. After finishing, he asked his family not to tease him about it, reiterating that Reiko was not his girlfriend though he silently wished the opposite. As he went up the stairs, he heard his family reply in unison.  
  
"Not yet!"  
  
He shook his head and entered his bedroom, muffling the sound of laughter from the living room as he shut the door behind him. He crashed on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what his stretch partner was doing at that moment. He took out the shirt she gave him from the shopping bag and inspected it. The blue hue of the shirt didn't come close to the dazzling azure color of her eyes. He held it in his hand and whispered a little prayer that he might see her happy in his dreams and he drifted off in to a deep sleep.  
  
Stepping out of the bathroom with a towel over her head, Reiko stood in front of the vanity's full-length mirror. She changed into her pajamas and sat, observing her reflection in the mirror. She noticed a change within her, and her limpid eyes showed it. It had only been four months since she moved to Japan, and she didn't expect to forget even for a moment how alone and watched she was. And yet she was able to forget and relish in every moment of not remembering what happened so many years ago, her stretch partner and his friends made it possible. On nights like this she would stay up late, her body listless and her mind in turmoil. She sued to tire herself lifting weights down the basement gym or swimming countless laps in the pool, believing if she depleted every cell in her body of energy that she would eventually fall asleep without having to think that she had it perfect and wonderful for a while. The past few days offered her much consolation, and being around people her age was a new discovery for her. Deemed a genius and an equal by her brilliant professors, she was surrounded by people over twice her age, her sound intellect a sought-after stimulant for them. And when she tried to be around people her age, they just looked at her like she was from another planet. They found her too polite and intelligent for the likes of them, and on a few occasions they have even asked her to dumb up her words for them. That was something she had to learn to do, and even when she did they found her too smart for her own good.  
  
She unraveled the twisted towel over her head and dried her hair. Brushing it gently, her eyes lazily wandered around her vanity and came to rest on a piece of paper with pieces of black yarn and two circles of blue glitter pasted onto it. She stopped and set her brush aside. Picking up the picture she smiled as she recalled the toothy grin of the boy and his little sister she encountered at the bakery earlier.  
  
A dog puppet appeared from below the black box where Mitsui hid. His voice was scruffy sounding to fit his puppet, and the children were captivated by his story of a swashbuckling hero and a princess in a crystal castle. There was a backdrop that changed scenery with the shooting guard's story. Like all fairy tales, the bad guys were defeated, the brave samurai rescued the princess, and they both lived happily ever after. The children cheered, and when Mitsui emerged from behind the box, they flocked to him like the paparazzi to a movie star. Some even locked his legs in a bear hug, and he looked like a giant monster truck that ran over a couple of kids. Looking abashedly at Reiko, he caught the children's attention and introduced her to his loyal subjects. They ran to her and left Mitsui like a swarm of bees to a new field.  
  
"Hello, children," she said gently as she bent down to their eye level. The little girl from the bakery pushed through the crowd of kids and pulled on Reiko's sleeve.  
  
"Reiko-neesan, are you staying with us today?" she asked.  
  
Reiko's eyes looked up at Mitsui. He shrugged.  
  
"You can help us make pictures today. Say you'll stay."  
  
Mitsui smiled at her as she acquiesced to the child's request. At this time the children ran to the crafts table and grabbed the materials consisting of paper, scissors, glue, crayons, glitter, and yarn of all sorts of colors. Reiko walked around the table as Mitsui and the other day care teachers did and helped the children put their creativity to work. A boy with snot peeking out of one nostril ran to the locker area next to the crafts table where two of Reiko's bodyguards stood. He continually sniffed to prevent the nasal discharge from dripping down his face as he struggled to pull a packet of stars made of gold foil from his bag. Amused, Jackson stepped forward and stooped down to the little boy, startling him. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and told the boy to blow his nose with it. The child looked at him with wide eyes, hesitant to take the handkerchief from the stranger. Jackson then gently cupped his large hand behind the boy's head and asked him softly to blow his nose. After doing so, Jackson wiped his little nose clean and smiled.  
  
"Better?" His bass voice asked.  
  
The little boy took a deep breath and exhaled. His face split into a smile and thanked him. Taking the packet of stars, he took hold of Jackson's index finger and pulled him to the crafts table, all the while Reiko watched in delight. This was a side of her guard she never knew existed, and Sakai was sniggering by the lockers.  
  
"Reiko-neesan, we made something for you!" sang two voices.  
  
The children from the bakery held up a folded piece of paper. They handed it to her as she bent down to look. On it was a drawing of what was supposed to resemble herself, hair to the shoulders in the form of black yarn and eyes of blue glitter. Beside the picture was a drawing of what looked like Mitsui, a dog puppet drawn in place of his hand, while the other hand held onto the stick figure hand of Reiko's.  
  
"Do you like it, Reiko-neesan?"  
  
She smiled.  
  
"It's quite nice, Sou-kun, Nonoko-chan."  
  
"Let me show Mitchy-niichan real quick."  
  
The child Sousuke made his way to the other end of the table and yanked on Mitsui's pants. Catching his attention, he held up the card, careful not to smush their proud work of art. Mitsui's face warmed at the siblings' innocent portrait of Reiko and he. He was a little shocked and pondered if children really are pure and innocent to know the simplest truths. He wondered if he was that transparent.  
  
Mitsui handed the picture back to the happy child. He followed him as he ran back to where Reiko and his sister stood. Reiko accepted the card and thanked the two with a bow and a pat on their heads. Not a second sooner did another child call on Reiko for help with her picture, and the children around played monkey-see-monkey-do and called on Reiko for help. Overwhelmed, she happened to look up at Mitsui who eyed her with smiling eyes. She wondered just how long he had been looking at her. She formed a silent word 'help' with her lips and the shooting guard was instantly at her side, quieting the cacophony of voices calling for Reiko.  
  
Two hours passed and the children were napping. The teachers invited Reiko and Mitsui to have some tea with them in the lounge. They would've invited Jackson but he was napping at the moment, the little boy with the previous breathing problem along with a girl with red ribbons in her braided hair sleeping soundly against his broad chest. The teachers were impressed with Reiko's charisma with the children and offered her a job that she politely declined. They groaned in disappointment.  
  
"Now, don't be jealous, Mitsui-kun. Reiko-san is much prettier than you."  
  
I agree," he replied, noticing the demure look on Reiko's face.  
  
Reiko quietly roused her sleeping guard so as not to wake the little ones. Slightly embarrassed, Jackson gently laid the two children on the sleeping mat. They along with Mitsui took their leave and silently waved goodbye to the teachers. They got into the parked Suburban outside the day care center and drove off.  
  
After a moment of silence, Mitsui spoke.  
  
"The children loved you."  
  
She giggled.  
  
"And you, too, Jackson-san."  
  
Sakai chuckled in the back seat as an embarrassed Jackson shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"I hope you enjoyed the puppet show. We try not to glue the children to the television with cartoons. They get plenty of that at home. It's pretty incredible what a silly puppet can do to a child's attention."  
  
"I couldn't recognize you from your puppet voice, Mitsui-san. You're quite a storyteller."  
  
"Thanks. I have a little sister, so I had lot of practice."  
  
She asked Fuji who was driving if they could do to the park.  
  
"The usual spot, Nakamichi-dono?"  
  
"Yes, if it's not too crowded."  
  
He parked the vehicle by the curb overshadowed by a large oak tree. Sakai remained in the Suburban while the other three guards stepped out and took a picnic blanket out from the back. Mitsui and the others followed Reiko to a spot under the large tree. Miller laid out the blanket and she invited Mitsui to sit by her. None of the other guards sat with them, instead they stood a few feet from the two.  
  
"I take it you come here often?"  
  
"Everyday, in fact."  
  
"What do you do here?"  
  
"If I don't fall asleep, I watch the clouds in the sky. And if I'm fortunate enough to see them, I watch the same old man play catch with his grandchild on some afternoons. But often times I fall asleep."  
  
Mitsui stretched out and leaned on one elbow. "Do you have picnics with any of your friends here?"  
  
After a pause, she answered. "I don't have many friends my age."  
  
Her words made his head turn towards her, her gaze fixed at a slow-moving cloud above.  
  
"Really? A pretty and smart girl like you is just the type to have scores of friends."  
  
She gently shook her head. "Thank you for the compliment, Mitsui-san. I have been told before that I was different."  
  
"How so?"  
  
Reiko mimicked the shooting guard's position and stretched out. "When I was little, I had to be sent to a different school to be educated."  
  
"What kind of school?"  
  
"My brother and sister called it 'the smart school'." She smiled at the recollection.  
  
"Surely you made many friends there."  
  
"Indeed, I did. However, they were all forty to 50 years my senior."  
  
Mitsui's mouth formed an 'o' as he nodded in understanding. He was beginning to realize that she was born a prodigy.  
  
"You know, the way you practice volleyball is pretty intense. I completely understand how you can easily pass out over here. I don't play that hard and even then I pass out in class."  
  
She laughed.  
  
"It would be hard to imagine you in class when you play on the basketball team. You seem wide awake most of the time."  
  
"No, it wouldn't be hard. I'll just have my head on the desk all the time."  
  
He enjoyed her laughter like live music to his ears. It was hard to accept that she was alone most of the time, save for her bodyguards. Though the men had a lighter side to them, they maintained a professional distance between them and Reiko.  
  
"You know, if I'm to join the team, I just know I'll fall behind on my studies. I don't know why I had to be an engineering major."  
  
"If you had someone to help you, would you play?"  
  
He sighed. "Yes, but I doubt the assigned tutors at school will travel with the basketball team on long tournaments. I mean, I love the game, but I also want to accomplish something off the court."  
  
She grinned. "I admire that way of thinking."  
  
"Thanks, but I still want to play, though."  
  
An ice cream truck pulled up by the water fountain and its driver put out the awning above the sliding window of the vehicle. Mitsui eyed the few people who came up to the van buying ice cream.  
  
"Hey, you want some ice cream?"  
  
"Sure, but where are you going to get ice cream?"  
  
He pointed to the van by the water fountain.  
  
"Oh." She took her wallet out and stood. "I would like to ask the men if they would like some, if you don't mind."  
  
"Go right ahead."  
  
He followed her to where Miller stood. After she asked, he smiled and humbly asked for a scoop of pistachio ice cream. She pointed to the two- way radio and he handed it over. She talked into it.  
  
"Gentlemen, would you like some ice cream? Mitsui-san and I are going to the ice cream vendor by the fountain."  
  
A very excited voice replied. "May I have some rocky road?"  
  
"Ooh, ooh! Strawberry scoop for me, please!"  
  
"Double fudge scoop for me. Thank you, Nakamichi-dono."  
  
"Thank you, Nakamichi-dono."  
  
"Thanks, Nakamichi-dono."  
  
She giggled and gave the two-way radio back to Miller. She turned to Mitsui. "Shall we go?"  
  
Miller and Fuji flanked the two on each side as they walked to the van. The line was getting quite long, high school just let out students and a number were throwing Frisbees in the park. They got in line behind a brown- haired boy.  
  
"What will you have, Mitsui-san?" she asked.  
  
"Hm." He looked at the flavors listed on the side panel. "A banana split sounds really good."  
  
They waited their turn and saw the boy in front of them walk off with a large plastic bowl of ice cream with bananas and cherries on top.  
  
"Excuse me," she called out, "what did you just order?"  
  
"Banana split!" the boy replied, an excited smile forming on his lips as he licked a whipped cream stained finger.  
  
Mitsui laughed. "I don't think I can finish that huge thing."  
  
"Would you like to share one then?"  
  
"Did you want the same thing?"  
  
"It looked really good."  
  
"All right."  
  
They came back to their spot under the tree and distributed the ice cream to the guards, all were grateful for the cool treat. Armed with two plastic spoons, the two dug in like hungry children. Some kids were playing soccer in the field before them, and in the setting rays of the sun they appeared like heavenly bodies clothed in light. The scene put Mitsui in a languid mood, and he was more aware of the cool breeze that blew over him. He used to come to this same park when he was little, often when he was upset and wanted to get away from it all. Now that he was older he found other ways to deal with is burdens, and most of the time he talked them over with his basketball buddies who became his close friends. The thought made him look at Reiko who now sat with her knees embraced by her arms.  
  
// If she didn't have a close friend to confide in, to whom did she run to? //  
  
He looked at Miller and Fuji who were standing not too far away, eating their icy delight.  
  
Surely not to them.  
  
He almost felt a twinge of regret that he didn't meet her sooner. He knew she was a little lonely, and though it seemed like she was involuntarily placed in that state, she was also a little reluctant to place herself in public situations in which the attention would fall on her. That in it was already difficult not to happen, she was too beautiful not to notice.  
  
Before he could open his mouth to ask her a question, he caught her dozing off, struggling to keep awake, She looked so uncomfortable, pitiful even, to sleep in such a posture.  
  
"Reiko-san," he coaxed softly, "come and lean against the tree."  
  
Mitsui found her adorable when she mumbled slowly as she turned to him. She was still clutching the plastic spoon in her hand. "Stretch your legs out and lean against the tree. You'll feel better."  
  
She did as she was told and inched to the edge of the tree, her eyes half- closed and limbs heavy. She unknowingly sat close to Mitsui, and he had to pry her fingers off the spoon. Leaning her head on the tree, she closed her eyes, giving in to sleep. Mitsui was about to move over to give her space when her head dropped to her side and onto the shooting guard's thick shoulder. He gasped.  
  
"Reiko-san."  
  
He peered into her sleeping face, his voice no longer reached her and she was at that moment dead to the world. The breeze blew over them once more, and he could smell the sweet scent of her hair. It was enough to drive him mad with delight, the simple contact with her sent jolts of euphoria throughout his body. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something to distract him though he knew he would never forget this day, in the park, under the large tree by the fountain. After a few minutes the excited sensations in him began to fade, and the warmth of her breath and the lazy breeze against him slowly lulled him to sleep. He let his head lean against the tree, and before he slipped into a nice dream-filled nap, he mumbled.  
  
"Thank you for spending this day with me, my blue-eyed angel."  
  
Tossing her hair over a shoulder, Reiko stood with the picture in hand and walked towards the bed. She took one last look at the drawing of the man standing next to her on it with the dog puppet holding her hand. It made her think. Mitsui had been a patient friend to her who didn't seem to expect anything from her. He didn't want money. He didn't want fame. All she saw in him was the innocent and curious need to have fun and be content with his decisions. He was so like her, and yet marginally different. She placed the picture on the end table, turned off the light and crept under the covers. Lying there with eyes open wide, she brought a hand to her forehead and wondered how she was able to go about the day without feeling that void inside her. She knew it was there and she felt it now; she feared it would never go away. Not completely. She welcomed the fatigue that set in her muscles. Closing her eyes, she let the last conscious thought fall on the memory of seeing her stretch partner's face smiling before her. 


	7. Chapter 7

            Her chest heaved up and down at a quick pace as her lungs burned for oxygen.  She worked on passing drills the following morning and asked the bodyguards not to be meek with her.  The younger guards Fuji and Miller were on the same side of the court with her, Miller acting as the target setter and Fuji the outside hitter.  Sakai and Jackson were on the other side of the net hitting volleyballs.  It was a surprise to her that all men were skilled in the sport.  Then again, she thought she shouldn't be since the men grew up by the beaches of California.  She ran up to and away from the net, returning spikes and passing them to Miller who loaded the setting machine.  

            Through the rectangular glass windows Coach Sato watched in awe, his eyes following her form as she hustled up and down the court.

            "Awesome," he uttered.

            "Playing Peeping Tom again, Sato-sensei?"

            Mitsui walked up to the coach and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.  He wasn't even fazed.

            "This is torture.  Every time I see her on the court, she shows me something new that blows me away."

            "And that is?"  
            "Look at the area of court she is able to defend.  She hasn't let one ball drop yet since I came to watch.  She can do the job of three people on defense and still manage to pass the ball within arm's length of the target.  God, it's so frustrating to watch her and think that she's not on my team!"

            Mitsui looked at the coach with pity.  Though he was sure that Reiko had a good reason not to play, he felt sorry for the man who was ready to tear his heart out.

            "Is there something I can do to help you?"

            "Yeah, you could beg her for me to join the team."

            "I don't know, Sato-sensei.  She's pretty timid about it, and I don't think she can play for the school, anyway.  She already graduated college."

            "What?  How old is she?"

            "Twenty."

            "Did she graduate from a Japanese university?"  
            "No."

            The coach snapped his fingers.  "Then I still have a chance."

            Mitsui was struck by his perseverance.

            "Is there any way, any reason you could think of to make her change her mind?" the coach asked.

            The shooting guard looked at the ground pensively.  There wasn't anything she wanted badly.  She seemed affluent and well taken care of; she was intelligent beyond her years and didn't impose on anybody for anything.  There was that sad look on her face from time to time, but he also noticed that he never saw her unhappy whenever she played.

            "Sato-sensei, I'll talk to her, but I make no guarantees.  If she had particular needs, would you accommodate her?  

            "Yes, absolutely!  Thanks, Mitsui-kun."

            Mitsui opened one of the double doors of the annex gym and walked up to the bench where the practicing group had their things.  As he sat down, he watched Reiko as she dove for a ball that was about to hit the sideline of the court where the bench was.  It was almost like slow motion, the ball bounced off her forearm while she was in mid-air.  She fell and slid on her tummy like a hockey puck headed straight for the bench.  Immediately Mitsui pushed the bench behind him as he got up to anticipate the impact of Reiko against himself.  Stopped by his strong arms, Reiko looked up at him, blue eyes full of surprise at first then grateful at the sight of her savior.  She smiled.

            "Thank you, Mitsui-san."

            Helping her up to her feet, he stayed her as she held onto his firm hand while dusting herself with the other.  

            "Would you like to take a break, Nakamichi-dono?" asked one of the men.  

            "Yes, thank you," she said as she gasped for air.

            She sat down on the bench with Mitsui taking the seat beside her.  She grabbed a towel from her bag and wiped her face. 

            "You were all over the court there.  Are you all right?"  
            Reiko peered from her towel and nodded.  Her breathing became steadier.  She took a water bottle from a cooler under the bench.  

            "Would you like one, Mitsui-san?"

            "No, thanks, I already had a drink."

            Smiling, she opened it, brought the mouth of the bottle to her lips and drank with her eyes closed.  He observed the movement of her throat, imagining the cold liquid traveling within it to quench her thirst, and he suddenly felt warm and weak.

            // _God, I want to be that water bottle…_ //

            The bodyguards also took drinks from their water bottles and they sat on the bench closest to the volleyball net pole.  They were talking quietly amongst themselves and it was the first Mitsui had ever heard them speak in a group.

            "How did practice go?" the shooting guard asked.

            She sighed.  "It went well, though I'm a little out of practice."

            His eyes widened.  "Out of practice?  You were flying across the floor!  Wow, I'm a little afraid to see what you are truly capable of doing."

            She laughed softly as she capped her water bottle.  "I think you assess too highly of me, Mitsui-san.  I have heard the same news of you as well."

            He arched a brow.  "Oh?  Who's been spreading rumors about me?" he sneered.

            "I overheard Sato-sensei and the basketball coach talking in front of the entrance earlier."

            "So you're eavesdropping now," he teased.

            "I was not eavesdropping!" she protested at an unconvinced Mitsui, his head looking away and arms crossed.  He eased his prima donna stance and winked at her.

            "I was just teasing, Reiko-san."

            She eyed him suspiciously, and then grinned.  "Will you ever dry the basketball coach's eyes and join his team?"

            He laughed.  "Oh, you're mocking me now, are you?"

            "Touché," replied Reiko playfully.

            He sighed.  "Well, I _could_ wipe the coach's tears, all right, but it wouldn't look good.  And besides, I may need a tutor to help me stay afloat with schoolwork if I'm to play."  Mitsui shuffled his feet.  "What about you?  You look like the dry-your-tears type."

            She smiled and looked at the gleam of the halogen gym lights reflecting off the wooden floor.  "Do you mean Sato-sensei?"

            "Yes.  But you don't have to answer if you're not –"

            "Comfortable," she completed.  He grinned.  She took a few moments to answer.  "I... don't know, Mitsui-san.  When I was in California, I only had one teammate.  I have never had five other teammates and have not played on a wooden court before.  I'm not sure how they would react to me and my men."

            "There's only one way to find out," he cheered.

            "I… am not so sure. I'm not very good at making friends."

            "What am I then, chopped liver?  Come on, every person I know who has met you likes you."

            She sat leaning her palms on the bench, a shoe tracing a wooden slat on the floor.  She knew he was just reassuring her.  She looked up to steal a glance at her stretch partner, not withstanding the gaze he returned.  She looked back down.

            "Being on the court in front of a crowd will make the guards' job more difficult.  Should anything happen to me, it will endanger those around me."

            Mitsui was taken by surprise.  There it was, her reason for reclusion.  She was protecting the ones who came in contact with her.  She pulled her head up and stared blankly ahead.  

            "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable," he whispered.

            She looked at him and gently shook her head.  "Oh no, I'm not uncomfortable, Mitsui-san.  You have actually been very patient and accommodating with me.  I am not uncomfortable in telling you this.  It is I who has made you so."

            His eyes locked with hers, now a glassy gray with glints of blue.  Pity and admiration mixed within him, but he knew she didn't need pity.  She needed a friend.  He wanted to take her hand, pull her close and hold her.  

            "Reiko-san…" Resisting the latter urge, Mitsui instead reached for her hand on the bench.  She looked at the hand and found the tender gesture consoling.  She took her free hand and pat the thick one gently that enclosed her other hand.

            "Well, don't worry about me.  Danger got tired of paying me visits," he joked.

            Her smile was faint.

            "Um, Reiko-san, I never thanked you for yesterday."

            "For what?"

            "For helping me with my homework.  And," he said as he lightly squeezed her hand, "for trusting me."

            They sat like so for a long moment, her hand in his and her trust in his heart.  He now wanted to know details, things about her that would make him understand her world better.   Despite this wish, he left the decision for her to make if she wished to disclose them.

            "Isn't the basketball team in its season right now?" she suddenly asked.

            "Yes.  As a matter of fact, they just started the new season."

            He watched her look pensively down the floor.

            "Mitsui-san, I know you are a very good basketball player.  I imagine it would be more financially advantageous for you if you played for the team on scholarship."

            "Yes, but there are more important things than playing."

            "Like what?"

            "Well, let's see…" Mitsui took a breath in and heaved a sigh.  "I think the children are important.  There would be chaos and unrest if they didn't have a puppet show."

            She nodded her head in agreement.

            "And my schoolwork is also important.  I wouldn't want to be an engineer who barely skates through school and not know a thing."

            Another nod. 

            "And stretching.  Stretching is important."

            She was about to nod but paused in thought.  "I know stretching is important before playing, though I do not see how that affects your decision to play for the college."

            "If I joined the team, I'd be too busy to practice on my own and stretch with you.  I would feel inadequate if I don't hear your voice counting off in the morning."

            It took her a second to realize that he didn't want to change his morning routine without her.  His confession gave her a peculiar feeling, one that was foreign to her heart's senses.  She glanced at the men lounging lazily by their bench before furtively looking at Mitsui.  She shrugged it off.

            "I could make a recording," she offered.

            "It wouldn't be the same," he muttered as he squeezed her hand again lightly.

            She felt her cheeks warm and her limbs tingly.  It happened the first time he did it, too.  Her eyes waxed blue as her curiosity peaked at how that happened.

            "Mitsui-san, could you please squeeze my hand again?"

            A little surprised yet happy at her request, he repeated the gentle gesture.

            Again it happened.

            "Are you all right, Reiko-san?"

            She blinked a few times and smiled.  "I feel this paresthesia in my extremities every time you do that."

            "Is that bad?" he asked.

            She angled her head as she looked at the gym's ceiling.  "I don't know, I haven't decided yet."  She looked at him and began to laugh.

            "What is it?"  
            When her laughter faded, she replied, "I do not know about a lot of things lately."

            "And that's funny because?"  
            She uncapped her water bottle, took a sip, and then answered.

            "Because there are a lot more things which I don't know about that I wish to know."

            She made him laugh.  "I thought you knew everything."

            "That is what my teachers told me."

            He now noticed that she was back to her cheery self, and he loved her smiling blue eyes.  He watched her as she tapped her shoes to music only she could hear.  It was then that it struck him.

            "Hey, how about we strike a deal, you and me?"

            Suspicion roused her and she arched a brow.  "Let's hear it first."

            "All right.  Okay, we both know that playing makes up happy, right?"

            "Right."

            "Good.  Now before I go on, I'd like to know… if you'd miss me if you had to stretch alone."  

            She glanced at his expectant eyes before answering.  
            "I assume my saying yes is key to your logic?"  
            He coyly nodded.  "Let's just say I'm fishing for the best answer."

            She got off the bench and sat on the floor, legs together as she stretched and looked up at Mitsui.  He quietly watched her fold over and count off, listening to her smooth mellow voice, hoping she wouldn't say no.  After the tenth count, she sat up and looked back at Mitsui, the weight of her cerulean gaze burning him.  

            "I've been alone for the most part, and I've enjoyed your company every morning we stretch.  So yes, I would miss your company."

            Mitsui exhaled in relief.  "I'm glad you said that.  I was beginning to think I was annoying you."

            She shook her head and laughed.  
            "Okay.  I don't know if Sato-sensei told you that they have practice in the afternoons."  
            "Yes, he has mentioned it many times."

            "Good.  So, if you join Sato-sensei's team and I join the basketball team, we could still stretch out together in the afternoons.  The basketball team starts their practice at the same time as Sato-sensei's does.  I'd just have to study extra hard to keep up with school and I'd still do the puppet shows but only for an hour.  This way, the coaches can stop tossing and turning at night about us and we can play and stretch together.  Then everybody will be happy."

            "But do I not have to be a student to play?"  
            He nodded.  "This and other people will affect your decision."  
            "Who are the other people?"  
            "Fuji-san, Miller-san, Sakai-san and Jackson-san."

            She sat in an Indian position, looking down her shoes.  

            Mitsui knew it was too much to ask.  It never hurt to ask nicely, but he feared that she would refuse.  She had the men's and her wellbeing to think of should anything happen, which brought him to a disquieting query.  // _Is__ someone after her? //  Four bodyguards protecting one girl, there must be a serious reason for it._

            She sat back on the bench beside Mitsui, looking pensively at the bodyguards who were now fooling around with a volleyball.  There was a look of uncertainty in her eyes.  She turned to him.

            "Mitsui-san, the truth is I wouldn't mind playing.  In fact, I would like to play.  But I'm hesitant because… because I –"

            He brought a finger to her lips, a bold act that surprised even Mitsui.  

            "Don't answer if it makes you uneasy.  I feel bad enough. I shouldn't put you on the spot.  I never want you to feel trapped or pressured, and I hope you don't resent me because I brought this up.  You don't have to do this," he ended as he reluctantly withdrew his finger away from the softness of her lips.

            Her face softened into a tender smile.

            "Thank you for thinking of me, Mitsui-san."

            "I always think of you."

            His eyes widened.  // _Did__ I just say that out loud? //_

            "What I meant to say was, that I think of how much happier you might be if you tried to play with others and make new friends your age.  That is, if you want to."

            // _But I really do think of you often…_ // his mind interjected. 

            She looked out at the expanse of the gym, almost like she was searching for something.  Reiko stood and spoke.

            "Please wait here, Mitsui-san."

            "Okay."  Mitsui mentally berated himself for being so forward.

            She walked towards the men who stood up straight at the sight of her.  Mitsui looked on as Reiko spoke to the men in a soft voice but loud enough from him to hear.

            "Gentlemen, thank you for practicing with me.  I am grateful for your help.  You are all quite talented at this sport.  I wish I invited you to play sooner."

            Her audience chuckled softly at her compliment.  She looked down at their feet, her voice nervous.  

            "Um… what I am about to ask of you might put you and I at a risk."

            The men looked at each other.  
            "We are prepared to hear the situation, Nakamichi-dono," responded Jackson.

            "You have all been aware that Sato-sensei has been relentless in his obvious desperation of convincing me to join his team.  I've been wondering lately, if it is not too much to ask of you… to support me in my decision to play for his team.  I know it will make your work harder and put you in a riskier position, and if you deem it too risky, I will decline Sato-sensei's offer for the last time."

            Fuji looked to his colleagues beside him and spoke.

            "Nakamichi-dono, we have been trained to guard you even in situations such as those you might be in if you play before a crowd.  You have my support."

            "Me, too, Nakamichi-dono," said Jackson.

            "Count me in," chimed Miller.

            "You have my support as well, Nakamichi-dono.  Please don't worry about us.  We just hope that you will be happier when you start playing."  Sakai's face split into a smile.

            Reiko's eyes widened and she was overwhelmed.  She realized that they have moved and left the island of isolation within themselves, despite of what happened so many years ago.  She was diffident and thought she had no right to impose on them, after all they have been through.  All these years she had been silent and alone, shutting herself from them and the world because she knew how they felt and she didn't want to bother them.  Perhaps they wanted her to leave her island, too.  

            She humbly bowed down before them.

            "Thank you so much," she whispered, blinking the tears away.

            The men bowed in return, and before they could stand upright again she quickly wiped her eyes.

            "I suppose this is a good way to end practice today.  I will let Mitsui-san and Sato-sensei know."

            She turned around and caught the shooting guard watching her, her eyes almost twinkling in delight and relief as she hurried to him.  He stood as she approached him with a smiling face and excitement in her voice.

            "They agreed, Mitsui-san!"

            "That's great!"

            "But I feel odd, I am happy and nervous at the same time."

            He laughed.  "It's okay to feel both."  He extended his hand out to her.  "So have we got a deal?"

            "Yes."  She took his hand and shook it.

            "Should I get Sato-sensei?"  
            "Not until I enroll first."  
            Her excitement was contagious; Mitsui was thrilled.  He grinned as he listened to her hum while she packed her things, something he never heard her do.  It sounded soothing, and he inwardly sighed at the warm sensation in his chest as he listened.  He had the ridiculous urge to lift her up in the air and whirl her around.  In his eyes, he saw the jubilant child released from within her, and he felt privileged to see this playful side of her like it was some rare phenomenon.  He would make sure to make it a natural occurrence, for he knew this was her true and unrestrained nature.

            Mitsui led the way to the admissions office and once inside, all eyes were on the tall bodyguards who towered over Reiko, making her look small.  She quietly made her way to the front desk and inquired of what paperwork she needed to fill out.  A snooty young woman handed her a folder of papers and flatly stated that the school will need a photograph of her with her essay.  Mitsui noticed the irritation on Jackson's face, and the other guards did not look pleased.  

            "Jackson-san, is everything –"

            "Hold on to that thought, Mitsui-san.  I need to make a phone call."

            The guard flipped his cell phone open, scrolled down to a number and pushed send.  He stepped out of the office and started talking, his voice perceptible through the door.  

            "Sir, this is Jackson…"

            Mitsui's eyes glanced at the other guards for a clue, and they answered him with a shrug.  He then looked for his stretch partner who now sat down in the waiting area looking over the papers.  The men took a seat as well, glancing at the paintings on the wall.  The shooting guard approached Reiko.

            "Hey, everything all right?"

            "Yes, I just need to –"

            "Nakamichi-dono," Jackson interrupted as he reentered the office, "Harada-san would like to see you in his office right away.  We'll take you up to see him."

            The other guards stood and followed Reiko out the door, Mitsui tagging along.  Catching up to her, he whispered.  "Isn't Harada-san the president of this school?"

            She nodded.

            "Wow, I didn't know you knew so many people in high places."

            She giggled as they walked into the elevator.  It ascended to the top floor and they found themselves before a pair of carved doors.  Miller knocked loudly on the door and an old man with salt-and-paper colored hair opened it.  His eyes crinkled happily at the sight of Reiko.  
            "Reiko-chan, it's good to see you again!  Please come in," he said as he ushered the group into his office.  "You wanted to see me, my dear?"  the president asked sweetly.

            "I suppose Mr. Jackson arranged this meeting," she said, glancing at the tall guard.  He answered with a nod.

            "I wish you'd come around more often to see me, Reiko-chan.  So, I understand you wish to attend school here.  That's a welcomed surprise, dear.  You really should be teaching instead of sitting in classes."

            She laughed.  "I do not know everything, Harada-san, if that is what you mean."

            "Well, can you blame me for thinking highly of you?"  
            // _So, I'm not the only one after all… // Interest peaked, Mitsui listened carefully to their conversation._

            "Thank you, sir."  
            "'Sir'? Are we back to that?" the old man winked.  "I suppose I should dye my hair black again, I'm really getting old.  Oh, please, have a seat, all of you."  The president's eyes fell upon Mitsui.  "Hello, I don't believe we've met.  Harada Junichi," he said, holding out his hand.

            "Mitsui Hisashi, sir.  Pleased to meet you."  He shook the president's hand firmly and bowed, a habit he picked up from Reiko.

            "Your name sounds awfully familiar, son.  Ah, yes.  The basketball coach has been trying to get you in the basketball program here."

            "Yes, sir."

            The old man sat behind his desk and leaned on his elbows.  

            "So, what can I do for the most sought-after shooting guard and the school's most generous and lovely benefactor?"  
            Mitsui's eyes widened and his head turned to Reiko who looked earnestly down at her fiddling fingers.  // _Benefactor?_ //

            "I would like to take a few math courses here, Harada-san."

            "But dear, you already have one too many PhDs."

            // _PhD?!_ //

            She continued to look at her slender fingers and smiled demurely.  "I have been rusty with my mathematics, I wish to continue learning what I can."

            The old man shrugged.  "I am here to accommodate you in any way, Reiko-chan.  I will arrange the paperwork myself.  I'm just afraid the classes may not be at a fast enough pace for you."

            "They will be just fine, Harada-san," she reassured.

            The president sighed.  "All right, but don't blame this old man for not cautioning you.  So, what about you, Mitsui-kun, is there anything I can do for you?"  
            "Nothing really, sir.  I'm just here with Reiko-san."

            "All right, then.  I'll make sure these papers get processes right away.  And for the second time, I welcome you to this university."  He stood to shake Reiko's hand.  "And don't be a stranger, all right?"  
            "All right."

            "Mitsui-kun, I look forward to having you in our basketball program.  I hope you'll join the team."

            "Yes, sir," he answered.

            They left the president's office and rode the elevator to the ground floor.  When the elevator doors opened, the guards led Reiko to the gym where they asked her to wait for the Suburban.  Jackson and Miller stayed behind, allowing a distance far enough for the two athletes to talk between themselves.

            "So… PhD, huh?"  Mitsui teased.

            "I was afraid you'd remember that," she whispered, eyes suddenly downcast.  She secretly hoped he wouldn't react like all the other people she encountered.

            "What was one of your PhDs in?"  
            She hesitated to answer.  "Molecular biology."

            "Wow."  

            He let a minute pass between them before noticing the melancholy look on her face. "Hey, why so glum?  This is supposed to be a happy day for you."

            She found a bench to sit on and coyly glanced up at Mitsui's concerned face.  "I know.  I just wish Harada-san didn't say all that about me."

            He smirked.  "What, about you being generous and lovely?"  
            She tried to laugh but couldn't.  "That is mere flattery."

            "Well, I think he was just being honest.  It's nothing to be ashamed of."  
           Reiko looked away, unable to meet Mitsui's gaze.  He was right; this was supposed to be a happy day.  And yet, she felt displaced somehow, that same feeling of apprehension gripped her heart.  It had happened before.  

            "Hey," Mitsui softly coaxed as he bent down in front of her.  He reached for her chin and gently turned her somber face towards him.  As expected, her eyes lost their blithe blue shade.  "I didn't mean to embarrass you about your accomplishments.  I was just surprised, that's all.  And it makes sense to me now why you know so much.  I'm happy for you."

            She seemed unconvinced.  After a moment of looking at him with wraithlike eyes of gray, she glanced down.

            "Every time a new acquaintance found out, they treated me like I was in a league of my own that they did not want to be a part of."  

Then, in almost a whisper, "Being intelligent is my gift, Mitsui-san.  And yet… it is also my curse."

            The shooting guard couldn't utter a word.  How desolate it must have been for her, tenuously trying to connect with someone her age only to be rejected because of her steep IQ.  It was no wonder why her friends were much older than her.  They were more likely on the same wavelength of thought, and carrying a friendly conversation may have been easier with them.

            // _Or__ was it out of pity that they did so? //_

            "What must I do to keep your eyes blue?  I will do anything."

            His words made her freeze.  _Father used to say those words to me..._  She looked at him wide-eyed as Mitsui looked on with concern.

            "I'm sorry that you had some bad experiences before, Reiko-san.  There may not be anything we can do about the past, but we can do something about the future, and today is the start of it.  If you let me, I will help you."

            She could do nothing but stare back at him.  Of all the people she met, he was by far the only one who offered to help her find her way around town and the encouragement to step out of her enclosed world.  He made situations that were so difficult for her to be in seem incredibly easy.  She watched him take her hand in his and gave it a gently squeeze.  The tingling sensation traveled throughout her again.

            "So, are you going to let me see you smile?" he asked timidly.

            Though it was weak, Mitsui saw the smile on her face and was glad that she responded to his request.  The vehicle arrived and parked by the curb down the steps.  Jackson and Miller called out to Reiko.

            "Nakamichi-dono, any time you're ready."

            She acknowledged them with a nod.  
            Mitsui let go of her hand, never taking his eyes off hers.  She tucked a few straying hairs behind her ear as the breeze blew by.

            "What do you plan to do now, Mitsui-san?"  
            He grinned.  "First I'm going to tell Akagi.  Then I'm going to turn in my homework, which you graciously helped me with, thank you very much.  And, I'm debating whether or not to show up for basketball practice today."

            "Why not?  Are you not excited about playing today?"

            He shrugged.  "I'd like to be there when you break the news to Sato-sensei."

            A genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

            "And don't forget to bring a handkerchief."  
            She angled her head in questioning.  "For what?"

            "Wiping Sato-sensei's tears of joy," the shooting guard sang, outlining a path from the corner of his eye down to his jaw.  

            He was gratified at the sight of her as she laughed, not knowing why making her happy brought that welcomed warmth in his chest.

            "What about you, Reiko-san, what will you do now?"  
            "I must go back to the house and make a call."

            "Will you be back?"  
            "Yes.  Shall I meet you somewhere?"  
            "I will wait for you here."  
            "It will take about three hours, would that be too long?"  
            "Not at all."

            "I'll see you then, Mitsui-san," she said as she waved to him.

            He watched her descend the steps with her ever-present guards.  They seemed less menacing when not dressed in black suits.  His eyes followed the vehicle as it sped off the cul-de-sac and turned left onto the main street, carrying within it the blue-eyed jewel most precious to his heart.

            Finding his way to the bench where he and Akagi often talked, he sat down and waited to be found.  Minutes later the bells of the clock tower tolled the hour and a tall muscled figure emerged from the corridor and was quite surprised to find his friend there.

            "Mitsui!  You finally crawled out from under your rock!  Where the heck have you been?  We missed you on the court last night."

            "Sorry, Akagi.  I was preoccupied."  
            The tall center produced an apple from his backpack and grunted.  "With Reiko-san, I'm sure."

            Mitsui extended his head with a blissful sigh.  "Man, I feel like I've been floating lately, like I'm high.  How does she do this to me?"

            "Oh boy…" Akagi sat beside him, took a bite out of his apple and rolled his eyes.  "Care to share the details?"  
            The shooting guard recounted what happened after dinner at the Italian restaurant, the trip to the sports gear store and the Ralph Lauren store.  Each mention of his stretch partner's name brightened Mitsui's eyes, and Akagi was amused.

            "I took her to the day care center to see the puppet show and the kids clung to her like she was the candy lady.  Man, every person who meets her gets drawn to her.  The day care offered her a job on the spot."

            "She does leave quite an impression, even with just one look," Akagi stated.

            "I know!  Man, her bodyguards are so lucky.  They get to be with her all the time."  
            Halfway through a bite, Akagi withdrew his apple and smirked impishly at Mitsui.

            "Oh man, you've got it bad, Mitsui."

            "That's what my Pops said."

            "What, don't you think so?"  
            "I'm not too sure about a lot of things, but I can certainly tell you she makes me happy, to the pitiful point of absentmindedness.  My family caught staring glassy-eyed at the wall during dinner."

            Akagi laughed heartily.  "I bet they got a kick out of that."

            "I think about her a lot, Akagi," he voiced an octave lower.  "It scares me."

            "It's only normal," he said, biting into his apple.

            He sighed again, and then brightened up.  "Oh, I've got some good news.  I'll be joining the team soon."

            His words made Akagi spit out the fruity contents of his mouth.  Wiping his chops with his sleeve, he gaped at Mitsui.  
            "Really?  You're not kidding, are you?  
            Mitsui shook his head as he smiled.  
            "That's great! Have you told the coach yet?"  
            "I think I'll wait till tomorrow to tell him."

            "What?!  Why?  You know that man burns a torch and prays every day for you to come to practice."

            "Because I'd like to see Reiko-san settled in with Sato-sensei's team.  She's a little shy."

            The tall center waved him off with his big hand.  "The girls on the team are nice.  One of the starting setters are in my organic chemistry class.  She'll blend right in."  
           "That's what I'm betting on.  But one day won't hurt the coach.  I just need to see that she's comfortable.  It's kind of a promise."

            Akagi's face softened.  "Mitsui, I don't think I've ever seen you like this."  
            The shooting guard frowned.  "Come to think of it, I've become soft, if not bolder."

            Akagi laughed.  "Yeah, to say the least."  He shot the apple core into a trashcan.  "But you look really happy, so I can only support it.  Did you tell her how you feel?"

            "No, not really… even though she sees me gaping at her like some sorry lame ass.  But it's funny, she doesn't seem to care."  
            "Probably because those guards watch her all the time.  Why are there so many of them, anyway?  It's not like she's in grave danger, is she?"'     

Mitsui leaned elbows on his thighs.  "She's never told me anything about it.  It's sad, I've only learned a few things about her despite spending most of these past few days with her."

            "But that's actually better than knowing everything about her all at once.  It keeps you from boredom."

            "I guess you're right."

            "And just what did you learn about her?" wheedled Akagi.

            "Well, she doesn't have many friends her age."

            "What?  Stop jerking my chain.  A nice girl like her?"

            "Yeah, that's exactly what I said.  But she didn't bat a lash when she said it, and she was serious."

            "Is it because she's always watched?"  
            "That's part of it, I think.  I found out she's got more than one PhD, one of them in molecular biology."  
            "Good grief, are you serious?!"

            He nodded sadly.  "And I think those who met her in the past got intimidated and didn't want anything to do with her.  Those she did make friends with are as old as our professors."  
            Akagi glanced down at his large bulky hands.  "Poor girl.  No doubt she blew every grading curve in every class she attended.  But it makes me wonder… volleyball is a team sport, so she must've played with someone else, like a friend.  Surely she has at least one friend her age," he said, his tone hopeful.

            "She did mention she only had one teammate and had never played on a wooden court before, so I'm guessing she played beach volleyball in California with that person."  Mitsui kicked a tiny pebble by the bench.  "Akagi, I've seen Reiko-san really happy before, but there are times when her eyes wan gray like she was crestfallen.  It's like she's got one foot out the door like she wants to see the world, and yet the rest of her is wary of leaving her lonely shell."

            "Her eyes change colors?"  
            "Yeah, it's the most peculiar yet beautiful thing I've seen.  They're striking blue when she's happy and change to a sharp gray when she's not."

            "Man, Mitsui, you certainly know how to choose the most atypical girl on the face of this planet, not that that's bad."

            "I'm lucky, I suppose.  You know, everyone thinks she's my girlfriend, and I really really wish she was."

Akagi punched the shooting guard's shoulder.  "Then do something about it."

            Mitsui blocked another playful punch.  "Hey, no need to rush things, right?"

            Akagi grunted.  "I guess there's no need to worry.  I just hope it won't affect your game negatively."

            Mitsui laughed.  "She's actually the reason I want to play again.  I don't know, I feel like a different person whenever I'm with her, like I can do anything."

            "Reiko-san has become your moon, Mitsui."  Akagi glanced at his wristwatch.  "Hey, did you turn in your physics homework yet?"

            "Got it right here."

            "Come on, let's go drop it off."

            Down the corridor they went, up the stairs and left into the main hallway of the math building.  A large wooden box with a slot stood by the door of the professor's office and the towering duo dropped their homework in.

            "Hey, there's a party at Miyagi's house tomorrow night.  He told me to tell you since you didn't show up at last night's little game."

"I'm sorry about that.  Who won?"

"Sakuragi and Miyagi."

            "Did you take them out to eat?"

            "No, Haruko made dinner instead."

            "Good for you, she saved your wallet that time."

            "Yeah.  Oh hey, why don't you invite Reiko-san to the party?  Ayako invited some girls on the volleyball team, maybe Reiko-san will be more at ease once she gets to know them."

            "That's not a bad idea.  But if she does decide to go, tell Miyagi four more people are coming.  What's the occasion, anyway?"

            The giant center laughed.  "He calls it a 'distraction' party.  He thought it would be a good idea to help us forget our last humiliating loss.  It should be fun, and Rukawa and Hanamichi will be there, too, and I'm sure mayhem will ensue."

            "I guess I'll tell Miyagi about the bodyguards," Mitsui chuckled.

            "Oh, he already knows."

            "Huh?  How does he know?"

            "He and Ayako cornered me, tied me to a chair, placed me under a hot light and made me talk."

            "Very funny, Gori."

            "Well, they were just intrigued by Sakuragi's rantings of your 'girlfriend's' shocking blue eyes.  Of course, Haruko overhead this and that idiot Hanamichi spent the rest of the evening reassuring my little sister that she's the only one he has eyes for."

            Mitsui's throat bubbled with laughter.  "I guess he doesn't know when to shut up."

            "You got that right.  Hey, I gotta go to physics class.  Are you coming?"

            "Yeah, I might as well go.  Reiko-san won't be back till later."

            The two sauntered down the hallway and entered a large lecture hall.  Sitting down the middle section of the seating area, both men took out their notebooks and prepared to scribble down some notes.  Mitsui watched carefully as the professor wrote across the board the same formula Reiko had used to shorten his proof.  Grinning, he couldn't help but think of her, the hopeful and expectant look in her bright eyes lingered in his mind.  He was more excited for her than he was about playing for the basketball team.  All her disappointing encounters, the apprehension in her voice, he wanted to make her forget and give her more to smile about.

            // _Akagi is right.  She pulls me toward her like gravity itself._ //

            He took a moment to mull over his thoughts, and his eyes widened at the realization.

            // _I'm really in love…_ //

              
  
  
  
            

  
  
            

  
            


	8. Chapter 8

Mitsui wished Akagi a good day in practice and left him to wait for his stretch partner at the steps by the annex gym. Over and over Akagi's words played in his head like a broken record player. Oh, man, you've got it bad, Mitsui. He silently laughed at himself. // He makes it sound like I'm afflicted with some kind of disease. //  
  
The black Suburban pulled into the cul-de-sac in front of the annex gym. Straightening his face, the shooting guard descended the steps to greet Reiko and her companions. His eyes followed the contour of a long toned leg that stepped onto the concrete, his gaze raising to a torso sculpted torso and a slender arm, and finally to the fair and beautiful face of his stretch partner smiling at him as she emerged from the vehicle. His face reddened.  
  
Shutting the door behind her, Fuji and Jackson led her up the steps while Miller and Sakai tailed her, all dressed in athletic attire.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Hello, Mitsui-san. Did you wait long?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, not at all. I killed some time by going to class, but it was kind of pointless. I already learned this week's lessons from you."  
  
Reiko beamed at him. "You are quite a fast learner."  
  
She eyed the double doors of the annex gym with trepidation, and Mitsui picked up her anxious gaze.  
  
"I know what you're thinking, and yes, you're going to be all right." Reassuring her with a grin, he added, "They're gonna love you, I just know it. Sato-sensei already does."  
  
// Along with one other standing right before you. //  
  
She looked down on the concrete. "I. I'm a little nervous."  
  
"That's okay. But don't worry. Just pretend that the only thing that exists is the ball. Everything else just fades away."  
  
She smiled. "Is that what you tell yourself when you play basketball?"  
  
Laughing, he replied, "Only to prevent myself from losing my lunch on the court. But hey, if you're still nervous, just think of something funny, like the time you found me sleeping out here by the gym."  
  
Her face brightened. "You looked so peaceful then."  
  
"Yeah, my mother says I'm a good boy only when I'm asleep."  
  
She laughed, the apprehension melting away from her eyes. He was glad, and he motioned his head towards the annex gym.  
  
"So, how about showing them a thing or two?" he invited.  
  
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, her eyes crinkled with a smile. "I am ready."  
  
They ascended the steps side by side, the men ahead quietly opening the doors for them and they strolled inside.  
  
Clustered by the pole of the volleyball net closest to the bench, the girls on the team listened intently as Coach Sato spoke about the afternoon's practice regime, his back facing away from the entrance. The attention of the girls veered away from the coach and their gaze shifted to Mitsui at first, the men with dark sunglasses next, and finally to the girl with braided her and black volleyball shorts. Coach Sato noticed their averted stares, stopped his chatter and turned to look at the distraction.  
  
The coach's eyes were amused to find Mitsui grinning at him and widened at seeing Reiko standing quietly beside him. Quickly he rubbed his eyes and blinked in disbelief. Hurriedly he ran towards them, not daring to blink anymore for fear that her mirage would disappear, his long-sought blue chip whom he fervently prayed for to come to practice every night before going to bed.  
  
"God truly answers prayers! Mitsui-kun, quick, pinch me and tell me I'm not dreaming."  
  
The shooting guard laughed and gave the coach a good slap on the shoulder.  
  
"Reiko-san, I can't believe you're really here!"  
  
She smiled coyly and said, "Hello again, Sato-sensei. I would like to try out for the team."  
  
The volleyball coach looked at her and laughed hysterically. Wiping the corner of an eye, he said, "You know, I really must be going out of my mind. I thought I heard you say you wanted to try out for the team."  
  
She was a little astonished at the coach's reaction, then Mitsui leaned to her side and whispered.  
  
"It's because he's been turned down so many times, he's so shocked that you actually showed up."  
  
The shooting guard turned to the coach whose eyes were in a daze. "Sato- sensei, you heard right. You don't need a hearing aid just yet."  
  
It took a few seconds for the words to register in the coach's befuddled mind before his face lit up at the realization.  
  
"Tryout? Tryout."  
  
He looked back at the girls by the bench and smiled from ear to ear. "Reiko-san, I would love to give you a tryout."  
  
Almost like an usher he led the way for Reiko and asked her to stand before the team. She was met by curious glances, and the girl directly in front of her introduced herself.  
  
"Hi, my name is Ueno Nanami, and I'm the team captain."  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you, Ueno-san. My name is Nakamichi Reiko." She then bowed politely to the group, their faces dumbfounded at the formality of her introduction.  
  
"Girls, Reiko-san here would like to try out for the team. Nanami-chan, please go set. Now girls, I want you to pay close attention. Reiko-san, anytime you're ready."  
  
She found a spot a few feet behind the ten-foot line of the court and cast a glance at her stretch partner who now stood between Coach Sato and the rest of the team. Mitsui smiled and gave her an encouraging nod.  
  
"Reiko-chan, how would you like your set?"  
  
After a second of thought, she replied, "A ten will do, thank you."  
  
Coach Sato took a ball from the rack and waited for Reiko to ready herself. Seeing her stance, he tossed the ball at the girl Nanami who set the ball flawlessly ten feet above the net. A second after the ball left Nanami's hands, Reiko ran and explosively jumped to meet the ball in mid-air, hitting the ball which landed just an inch off the other court's ten-foot line with such force that it bounced fiercely off the wooden floor.  
  
The girls on the team gaped at the spectacle that just happened before their very eyes. The skills of every player on the team were commendable, but they had never seen anyone jump so early and so high that the point of contact with the ball came to the level of Reiko's shoulder, allowing her to hit the ball without reaching above her head. With her vertical jump they could have mistaken her to be a high jumper for track and field. The coach observed the amazement on the girls' faces.  
  
"One more time, please, Reiko-san," he asked.  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Returning to her starting spot, she waited for the ball toss and the set. Once more she soared above and pounded the ball, this time aiming for the sideline. Landing softly on her feet, she turned to Coach Sato who looked as if he was watching a romance movie.  
  
"Well done, Reiko-san," Coach Sato approved. Facing the girls by the sideline, he said, "She's the one I've mentioned before, girls, the one I've asked so many time to join the team." And in a giddy, childlike whisper he added, "I can't believe she's really here!"  
  
Mitsui looked at the coach and a smile spread across his lips. Without really realizing it, Reiko just let the coach experience mirth like a child on Christmas Day. He studied his stretch partner as she stood in the middle of the court, her breathing silent and face expectant of Coach Sato's requests. Just as he thought, her eyes shone a vibrant blue against the light reflecting off the shiny wooden floor. He was taken aback when his watchful gaze was met by her azure eyes that smiled at him, his breath catching in his throat as he stood transfixed on her gaze.  
  
The coach asked her to do a couple of passing and blocking drills with the team. Her blocks were impenetrable, and her passing skills practically landed right into the setter's hands. All the girls were so impressed; they huddled around her in excitement.  
  
"You are awesome, Reiko-chan!" exclaimed the team captain.  
  
"You're definitely on the team!"  
  
"Reiko-chan is bank!"  
  
"Yeah, you are sooo money! We'll win every game!"  
  
Not quite knowing how to react to the words 'bank' and 'money', she looked down on the floor demurely as she thanked them for their unfamiliar compliments. Coach Sato and Mitsui watched them cheer her on.  
  
"Mitsui-kun," the coach addressed quietly, "how did you get her to come to practice?"  
  
He shrugged. "I made her a deal."  
  
"Oh? What deal?  
  
"I told her that I'd join the basketball team if she played for you. That way everybody's happy, and we can still stretch together and play with a team in the afternoons."  
  
"So she's going to attend school here now?"  
  
Mitsui nodded. "We had a little pep talk with the president in his office earlier this morning. He said he'd take care of everything."  
  
"Nice." Coach Sato turned to him and gave him a pat on the back. "Mitsui-kun, I don't know what to say."  
  
The shooting guard laughed quietly. "Just say she'll be okay when she's on the team."  
  
"They're nice girls, they'll take to her like fish in water. I am very, very grateful, Mitsui-kun." He turned his gaze back at the girls, now chattering endlessly before a smiling blue-eyed Reiko.  
  
"Have you told the basketball coach yet?"  
  
Mitsui shook his head. "I'll go tomorrow. I wanted to see her try out."  
  
"You're such a supportive boyfriend. Good for you," the coach smirked.  
  
"Keep saying that, Sato-sensei, and maybe someday it will come true."  
  
// Man, I really wish it were true. //  
  
Since the team only had ten players, Reiko had to ask if the bodyguards could stand in and scrimmage with them. They gladly agreed, and soon two hours passed as they played an entire five-match game. Coach Sato made Reiko play all positions and he saw that her versatility was just as invaluable as her ability to hit and defend the court. Mitsui knew he was no judge of volleyball champions, but he was certain that she truly was a phenomenon. He watched as she jumped to hit the ball, her eyes calculating the movement of the ball and the players on the other side of the net. Like the first time he saw her, a smile lingered across her face after each spike. It made Mitsui chuckle. She was really enjoying herself, and he felt better and better about her joining the team with every smile she put on as the scrimmaging teams rallied for points. He hoped that this would be the end of her isolation.  
  
They all took a break, the men and Reiko claiming the adjacent bench next to where the team sat. Fuji handed Reiko and the others some towels and all took advantage of the break to catch their breaths. Unscrewing the cap of a water bottle, she took a sip and settled into a seat on the bench, her eyes still bright against the light and skin glistening with perspiration. Mitsui left the coach's side and sauntered over to the group, smiling.  
  
"Well, I think you blew them away," he cheered.  
  
"I agree, Nakamichi-dono. Your performance was remarkable," said Sakai.  
  
"I guess," Reiko squeaked.  
  
"You guess? They love you!" the shooting guard exclaimed. He held his palms out facing up and prompted Reiko to slap him fives. She smiled timidly.  
  
"Thank you all for your encouragement." Looking up at his stretch partner's beaming face, she asked, "What did one of the girls mean when she said that I'm 'bank'?"  
  
The two younger guards chuckled softly in their seats.  
  
"It's slang for being very talented," explained Mitsui.  
  
"Oh." She dropped her gaze to her shoelace that she noticed was untied. "I was beginning to wonder how she knew about my finances."  
  
Fuji and Miller's laughter rang out, making Reiko tilt her head in curiosity.  
  
"We apologize, Nakamichi-dono. It's just that your reply was too precious."  
  
Reiko meekly shrugged her shoulders. "No, don't apologize. I know nothing of these expressions. I suppose I should go to a bookstore and purchase a slang dictionary. I need to know what being 'money' means as well." She proceeded to reach down to tie her shoe.  
  
The guards found her comment so childlike and Mitsui found her adorable, sitting on the bench with a look of confusion on her face. He knew she'd have to learn a whole new language just to understand some of the girls on the team, two of them precocious and playful girls named Sayuri and Miki. Both from the same high school Mitsui attended, they used the same words to praise him after Shohoku High won the Interhigh championship. After seeing the warm reception they gave Reiko after the hitting drills, the shooting guard inwardly smiled. Coach Sato is right. Reiko will be just fine.  
  
The team captain walked over to Reiko and invited her to sit with them on their bench. Scooting over, the girls made space for her to sit, their eyes smiling and minds full of questions.  
  
"So Reiko-chan, which position would you like to play?"  
  
"Whatever position you need, I suppose," she softly answered.  
  
"Your eyes are so dreamy-looking, Reiko-chan!" sang the girl at the far end of the bench.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Who are those men with you and Mi-chan?"  
  
She hesitated to answer; the nervousness was there again to grip her insides should they choose to cast her in a different light. Her stretch partner could hear their conversation.  
  
"They are my bodyguards." She exhaled and looked over to the adjoining bench, waiting for any sign of rejection.  
  
"Wow, that's pretty cool, being followed around by such handsome men!" whispered Nanami.  
  
"Yeah, especially the one wearing the green shorts," Sayuri said with a sigh. "Could you introduce me to him, Reiko-chan?"  
  
"Oh, me too, me too! But to the guy in the black shorts instead!" Miki urgently whispered.  
  
Reiko's brows raised at the requests and made her throw a quick glance at Fuji and Milller who sat chatting with the two older guards and Mitsui. She grinned, and before she could agree to acquaint them, Nanami interrupted.  
  
"Oh hey, ladies, Akagi-kun said to tell you all that there's a party tomorrow night at Miyagi-kun's house. Ayako-chan wants us there to help cheer the guys up. Seems that they hit a little slump."  
  
"They will be out of it soon enough," Reiko assured.  
  
The girls looked at Reiko, wondering how and why she was so sure about the team's future. Then, Miki's face split into a teasing grin.  
  
"Wait. Don't tell me you're trying out for the basketball team, too."  
  
The team clutched their middles in laughter as Reiko reddened with embarrassment. She was rather surprised at their reaction; the bodyguard issue no longer became a nuisance but a welcomed opportunity to meet new people. At that time Mitsui walked over to the giggling team. He looked at a blushing Reiko.  
  
"You guys seem to be having fun."  
  
Nanami straightened up, letting some residual laughter bubble over. "Hi, Mi-chan. Reiko-chan is pretty phenomenal, she can predict the future, too!"  
  
"She says the basketball team will start winning games again, which is great. but don't take it the wrong way, Reiko-chan. I think it's great you're optimistic and supportive." Sayuri gave Reiko a wink. "I guess both the basketball and volleyball teams need a pick-me-up."  
  
"Sayuri-chan, we already have one!" chimed Miki who gave Reiko's shoulder a friendly pat.  
  
"I wonder who the basketball team's pick-me-up will be," thought on of the girls out loud.  
  
Mitsui cast a glance at Reiko who wore a knowing smile on her face. Even though she knew, her lips did not reveal his planned comeback to the court. She would keep his secret and let him herald the news himself.  
  
"Speaking of pick-me-ups, I'm sure Akagi-kun told you about Miyagi- kun's party tomorrow night, right, Mi-chan?"  
  
"Yup, got the invite from him this morning. I guess you're all going then?"  
  
"You got it! Right, ladies?"  
  
Nanami was answered with a resounding yes.  
  
"All right. And since we all know you've made it on the team, Reiko- chan, I hope you go, too."  
  
Reiko was inwardly surprised at the invitation. The last time she attended a social function was a fundraiser auction in Newport, California for cancer research. She sat with her old colleagues then, the youngest person at their table and at the event. She quietly hoped that the attire would not be so formal. She had no clue when it came to evening dress. Looking at her stretch partner for an answer, her bright eyes met brown ones as he nodded an encouragement.  
  
"Oh, bring them, too, Reiko-chan!" hushed Miki with a giggle.  
  
"And don't forget the hookup!" snickered Sayuri while motioning her head towards the adjoining bench.  
  
"I will try my best to attend."  
  
"If you need directions, just ask Mi-chan. Better yet, why don't you go with him?" the team captain suggested.  
  
A smile crept across Reiko's face, contented at the setter's suggestion. From a sideways glance she could see the reddening cheeks of her stretch partner.  
  
"All right, girls, back on the court!" yelled Coach Sato.  
  
An hour passed and practice ended. Reiko was shown her locker that was next to Nanami's and she received two sets of uniforms, one for home games and another for away games. Reiko changed out of her workout clothes and the girls on the team had long gone home, but the volleyball coach had asked Reiko aside if she needed anything else. Shaking her head, she took her leave and gave the coach a bow. Thanking her for the twenty-third time that early evening, Coach Sato saw her out of the gym with Mitsui and her men leaving with her.  
  
Two of the guards went ahead to fetch the vehicle as usual and the remaining two stood below the steps of the annex gym. Standing at the top of the steps, Reiko enjoyed the cool breeze that blew against her face, tucking a lock of her behind her ear. Mitsui stood beside her, both taking satisfaction in the day's events. She broke the silence.  
  
"Mitsui-san, thank you for staying the whole practice. Your presence was appreciably comforting."  
  
She made him smile. "I'm glad to hear that. So, what do you think of the team so far?"  
  
"They've given me a warm welcome and have overlooked the fact that the men are always near. For that, I am relieved." She nearly laughed. "I think Miki-san and Sayuri-san have their eyes on Fuji-san and Mr. Miller."  
  
Amused, the shooting guard looked down at Miller gazing at the setting sun over the horizon. "Miki and Sayuri went to my high school, and those two are quite lively. They'll give your guards a run for their money."  
  
"Mi-chan. this is the name they call you?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, grinning. "Remember Sakuragi? The redhead at the restaurant?"  
  
She smiled and nodded in recollection.  
  
"He gave me the nickname 'Mitchy', and soon those who came to see us play turned it into 'Mi-chan'."  
  
"You must be quite popular then to be given that term of endearment," she assumed.  
  
"Yes, but for all the wrong reasons."  
  
Reiko suddenly remembered him disclosing that regretful event in his past a few nights ago. How could someone so kind and sincere be a bully? He strayed away from what he wanted to be, but her never lost sight of it. She imagined that the road to self-restoration was a difficult one to tread, and she was sure he became all the better for it. She was glad that even during his setback on the stormy side of the fence, he didn't have to go through it alone.  
  
"Perhaps I should take Nanami-san's advice."  
  
Mitsui felt warm at her words as he saw the black Suburban pull up to the curb. "Actually, I wanted to ask you to come to the party with me, but I guess Nanami-chan beat me to it."  
  
She grinned.  
  
"What does one wear to these parties, Mitsui-san?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, I guess something casual."  
  
"Like what I wore to the puppet show?"  
  
"Yeah, something like that." Mitsui recalled the fit contours of her form them and determined she would look breathtaking in any attire.  
  
"And for the men?"  
  
"I guess those clothes they tried on at the shopping mall will do fine."  
  
She saw the men at the bottom of the steps look at her, silently waiting for her response. Turning to Mitsui, she offered to give him a ride home, slinging her gym bag over her shoulder.  
  
"You're my stretch partner, not my taxi driver," he joked.  
  
Laughing, she said, "Your house is on the way to mine. It won't be a bother."  
  
After he agreed, the two walked down the steps, Miller and Sakai following them into the vehicle. As they drove off, Jackson turned his head from the front seat to address the shooting guard, much to Mitsui's surprise.  
  
"Mitsui-san, what do the game schedules look like for the volleyball team?"  
  
He gave it a long thought. "Well, usually Sato-sensei schedules his home games when the basketball team is on away games. On few occasions do both teams have their home games at the same time."  
  
"What days does Sato-sensei have home games?"  
  
"If I remember correctly, Fridays are home days and Tuesdays are away days."  
  
Miller took out a Palm Pilot and began to scribble the details of Mitsui's interview.  
  
"What time do the games usually start?" asked Fuji behind the wheel.  
  
"It varies. The coaches often decide amongst themselves."  
  
Mitsui knew they were already making plans to safeguard Reiko both on and off the court. He watched Miller tap quickly on the PDA screen. Glancing over at Reiko, she looked out the window with a faint smile, her fingers softly running over the fabric of her uniform that she took out of her gym bag. Leaning over to her ear, he whispered.  
  
"Excited?"  
  
Looking back at him, she beamed. "I just remembered a happy thought, that's all."  
  
"Was it of Sato-sensei's dumbfounded face earlier?"  
  
"No, far from it," she laughed.  
  
The vehicle turned a corner and stopped in front of Mitsui's home. A grade-schooler walked towards the front gate. She stopped to look at the large foreign vehicle parked by the curb and her eyes widened at the sight of her brother stepping out of the Suburban.  
  
"Oniichan?"  
  
Turning his head to the voice, Mitsui smiled. "Ami! Did you just get here?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Come here, there's someone I'd like you to meet."  
  
Ami walked over to her brother's side and gaped at the girl who emerged from the vehicle. She appeared strong and beautiful in her eyes, her gaze following the length of her long braid. Reiko looked at the little girl with soft blue eyes and smiled.  
  
"Reiko-san, this is my little sister, Ami. Ami, this is Reiko-san."  
  
The child said nothing, mesmerized by her new acquaintance's eyes. She felt a nudge on her shoulder.  
  
"Ami!" Mitsui hissed, "It's not polite to stare!"  
  
The child managed to stutter a 'how-do-you-do', her eyes never blinking at the sight. Reiko averted her gaze to her stretch partner who merely shrugged.  
  
"Reiko-neechan. you're so beautiful." muttered Ami.  
  
Reiko's eyes widened at the compliment. "Thank you, Ami-chan. You are very pretty yourself," she said as she reached out to move a braided pigtail over her shoulder.  
  
"Would. would you like to come inside and have some tea?" Ami timidly offered.  
  
Looking at her watch, Reiko answered with a regretful shake of her head. "I'm afraid I have to decline your kind offer, Ami-chan. I have to make a few calls at the house."  
  
"Promise you'll come some other time then?" she asked sweetly.  
  
"Yes, I promise."  
  
The little girl Ami gave her an embrace at the waist that surprised Reiko. Mitsui looked on in amusement.  
  
"Please take good care of Oniichan!" she blurted and she ran through the gates of their home. The act startled the shooting guard more so than Reiko. He brought a hand behind his head and chuckled in embarrassment.  
  
"Kids," he mumbled.  
  
"She's a sweet girl, Mitsui-san," she responded.  
  
A moment of silence fell up on them, Mitsui himself standing entranced by Reiko's fascinating azure gaze. In his mind he had memorized the outlines of her face and yet they were inadequate compared to seeing her in person with unclouded eyes.  
  
"Would you like to stretch together before practice tomorrow, Reiko- san?"  
  
She grinned and nodded. "Yes, I'd like that very much." With one foot in the vehicle, she turned around to face Mitsui. "Thank you again, Mitsui-san." She climbed in and he shut the door softly behind her. The window rolled down and he was graced again with the sight of her face.  
  
"Mitsui-san, may my men come to the party, too?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, the more the merrier. Bring dates along if they'd like," he encouraged.  
  
"What party?" Jackson interrupted, overhearing the conversation.  
  
"Gentlemen, earlier I was invited to go to a party tomorrow night by Nanami-san. Would it be all right if you accompanied me?" she asked, blue glints casting a hopeful look at Jackson.  
  
Momentarily looking at Sakai who simply arched a brow and grinned, Jackson gave into Reiko's silent cerulean plea.  
  
"We just need details, Nakamichi-dono. There shouldn't be any problems."  
  
She brightened and replied, "I'm sure Mitsui-san can give you all the details."  
  
Jackson nodded. "Mitsui-san, we'll be giving you a call tonight." The guard's gaze strayed to Reiko's grateful and smiling face. He grinned.  
  
Mitsui suddenly became curious as to how they would do that since he hadn't given them his phone number yet. Judging it best to keep quiet, he turned his attention to Reiko once more. "Thanks again for the ride, Reiko- san."  
  
"Don't mention it," she said, shaking her head softly. "Good evening, Mitsui-san." She waved goodbye and the window rolled up, concealing her lovely face from his eyes, the light in them extinguished at the sight of her leaving.  
  
Letting out a sigh, he trudged through the gate and front door to find an excited Ami on the phone chattering like a lark in spring.  
  
".And she had the prettiest eyes I've ever seen, it was like looking at a blue ocean in a travel magazine! I don't need to go on a vacation, one look at her eyes and I'm there! And she's so polite and soooo nice. yeah, Oniichan really hit the jackpot!"  
  
"Ami! Are you gossiping about me?!" he stammered.  
  
"Oh, Oniichan finally walked inside. Come home soon, okay? Okay. Love you!"  
  
Ami placed the receiver back on the phone base and smiled warily at her older brother who was ready to pounce on her. She inched away from the phone and sought to distance herself away from her predator with the dining table. Looking at her brother's intense eyes, she crept slowly past a chair and without blinking she dashed into the kitchen. Her long-legged brother pursued, reaching for her shirt that slipped from his grasp. She began to laugh and kept laughing as she jumped over a laundry basket, nearly knocking over a box of clothespins by the kitchen counter. She could hear her brother yell at her and it only fueled her sympathetic response to flee from her pursuer. Ami zoomed to the living room only to trip and fall onto the carpet face first. Groaning as she looked up, she saw her brother's foot sticking out from the hallway that led to their father's den, the winner leaving the offensive foot for her to see. Before she could get up he was upon her, taking her legs and dragging her across the floor, protests ignored. She was no match for his strength and he swung her up like a sack of potatoes onto the sofa. Then the tickling began.  
  
"Who were you talking to?" demanded Mitsui in a playful tone.  
  
"Stop, Hisashi-niichan!" she gurgled.  
  
"Tell me!" he crooned. His fingers were quick to tickle his little sister's ribs and she could scarcely take in air to breathe.  
  
"Okay, okay, it was Mom, it was Mom!" she cried.  
  
He stopped his tickling and arched a brow at her. Allowing her to recover, she sucked in air to her burning lungs.  
  
"Mom called while you were still outside and I got excited talking about Reiko-neechan," she explained, trying to catch her breath.  
  
He slapped his forehead in exasperation. "Ami, you know she's going to tell Pops and they won't leave me alone!"  
  
"She's willing to take us out to dinner if you tell her more of what happened today."  
  
Her brother's face straightened at the proposal. Getting to eat out for information? "And how did she get this idea?"  
  
Ami snickered. "I said that you might tell her more if she took us out for dinner. But you don't have to tell her anything."  
  
He flashed a grin at her sister's sly trickery. "Nice." He held up a fist for her to hit with her own.  
  
"Pick a good restaurant, Oniichan!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~  
  
Over a deluxe order of sashimi, Mitsui told his parents of his decision to walk onto the basketball team. He looked anxiously at the surprised looks on their faces and breathed a sigh of relief when they both held their thumbs up.  
  
"All right! Time to get a new video camera!" declared the older Mitsui.  
  
"Oh yeah. Maybe we can get footage of Hisashi together with his pretty girlfriend!" hinted Mrs. Mitsui.  
  
"Mom! Dad! I'm not in fifth grade anymore!"  
  
"Ah, but you still blush like you're in fifth grade, son! Just like that time you kissed the neighbor's little girl -"  
  
"Dad!" protested the younger Mitsui.  
  
"My baby boy's all grown up," sniffed Mrs. Mitsui, placing her forehead in her hand to cry her crocodile tears. She stopped for a second, looked sideways at her amused husband and winked, then continued to cry mockingly. Ami nearly choked on her sushi and Mr. Mitsui just threw his head back in laughter.  
  
// Lord, help me. // he prayed, letting his head fall onto the table with a thud. 


	9. Chapter 9

            The moment he and his family opened the front door, the loud ringing of the telephone sent Mitsui flying across the living room to grab the cordless phone.  The rest of his family rolled their eyes and smirked, retiring to their rooms.

            "Mitsui residence," he answered.

            "I'd like to speak to Mitsui Hisashi, please," said a bass voice on the other line.

            He was a little disappointed that it wasn't her.  "This is he speaking."

            "Mitsui-san, it's Jackson."

            "Hey, what's up?"  
            "Plans for the party.  Could you give me the address of the house where the party will be held?"

            Mitsui smiled at the bodyguard's forwardness.  After being exposed to Jackson and the others these past few days, he had learned to expect it.  He gave him the address and phone number of the Miyagi residence, as well as the directions from his house to Miyagi's.  He mentioned that the basketball team will be there, as well as a few other people from his high school along with the volleyball team.

            "Will there be alcohol?"  
            "I believe so."  Silence fell at the other end of the line.  "Jackson-san?"

            "That might complicate things."

            Mitsui hoped that the guard wouldn't be swayed from letting Reiko attend the party.  "I wouldn't worry about that, Jackson-san.  I know the guys who are going to the party, they're pretty cool.  This isn't the first time Ryota threw a party, and they've all been pretty undisruptive.  The only things I suggest to bring are earplugs.  Yohei and his buds often play the deejays, and they rock the house."

            He thought he was talking tot a deal line for a second.

            "Can these people be trusted?" the bodyguard's bass voice asked.

            "I've gone to school with most of them, and they're a great bunch.  So yes, I'd trust them with my life."

            After another moment of silence did Jackson reply.  "Thank you for answering my questions."

            "No problem."  Mitsui tapped his finger unconsciously on the sofa.  He had the gnawing need to hear Reiko's voice just once more tonight.

            "Oh, hold, please."  After several seconds of silence, the bodyguard's voice returned, this time his tone less serious and even a little puckish.  "Mitsui-san, I can't help but overhear the ladies talking earlier.  Did my ears deceive me or were those two ladies on the team talking about Fuji and Miller?"

            He had to laugh, the contrast of seriousness and sudden playfulness a bit staggering.  "Yeah, you heard right.  But if they want to know more, it's probably better to ask the girls themselves."

            Mitsui heard a smirk.  "This is really amusing.  Anyway, thanks again for the details.  We'll see you tomorrow."  
            "Wait.  Do you think I could talk to Reiko-san?" he asked.

            Jackson chuckled, and the shooting guard couldn't make heads or tails of what the laugh meant.  

            "Let me give you the number to her line."

            Mitsui scrambled to find a pen and took the newspaper from the coffee table.  He scribbled the numbers down.

            "Mitsui-san, I don't know what it is with you, but of the many years of guarding Nakamichi-dono, I've never seen her eyes as blue as they are when you're with her.  It's encouraging to see her happy again."  
            "I don't know, either.  All I know is that she's changed something in me."

            // _Man, it feels good to get that off my chest. //_

            "You seem to be a nice guy.  I hope you don't change our mind about you."

            He laughed.  "Me, neither."  
            "And I hope you're as mentally fit as you appear to be."

            "Why is that necessary?"

            "Because you are now at the point where others like you stopped and turned away after getting to know about her."

            Mitsui was hushed by his words.  He didn't understand.  Seconds passed by.

            "I've said enough.  Thanks again."

            Click.

            The abrupt end of their conversation didn't help his confusion.  // _What_ was that about?_ // Lowering the phone from his ear, he eyed the number on the newspaper.  He dismissed that nagging curiosity that often got him in trouble.  Dialing the number, he let the other line ring.  Whatever Jackson's words meant, Reiko would reveal herself.  And like a good gentleman, he was going to be true to his word: he would wait until she was good and ready._

            "Hello?" a feminine voice answered.

            "Hello, may I speak to Reiko-san, please?"  
            "This is she speaking.  Is this Mitsui-san?"  
            "Guilty as charged.  I hope you don't mind me calling.  I asked Jackson-san for your number."  
            "I'm surprised he gave it to you."

            "I take it you don't get many calls?"  
            "You've taken correctly," she replied.

            Mitsui got up off the sofa and paced around, making small talk with her, hoping she wouldn't notice the quiver in his voice after each spoken sentence.  As the minutes ticked by he was more comfortable, bringing up the events that occurred in the gym, Coach Sato and the stars in his eyes, and every other thing that came to mind.  They were all just excuses for making conversation.  

            He only wanted to hear her voice.

            After talking for an hour, they agreed to meet before practice at the top of the steps leading to the annex gym.  Before saying goodnight, Reiko let out a soft laugh.        

            "They must trust you a lot, Mitsui-san."

            "Who?"  
            "Mr. Jackson and the others."

            "Oh… because he gave me your phone number?"  
            "Because they allow you to be within a meter of me."

            His eyes widened.  "Wow… I feel extremely privileged.  Got an idea why they trust me so much?"  
            "Hmm… I don't know their reasons, but I do know you're nice, and that may be one of them."

            "Thanks.  That means a lot to me."  He grinned and rubbed the corner of a throw pillow on the sofa.  "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

            "Indeed.  Will you be practicing early in the morning?"

            "Only if you'll be there," he said, partly joking, fully entreating.

            "I suppose I should register for classes tomorrow instead."  
            "Oh, which classes are you going to take?"  
            "I haven't decided yet.  Where does one register for classes, Mitsui-san?"

            His face brightened.  "If you want, I can show where to go and the rest of campus."

            "That's very kind of you, Mitsui-san, but I don't wish to impose on you."

            // _Man, she's too polite sometimes… //  "You won't be imposing, I promise."_

            "Thank you very much."

            The following morning was a walk in the clouds for the shooting guard.  After taking Reiko to the registrar's office, he showed her the school grounds and introduced her to some of his friends whom they happened to pass by in the hallways.  He felt light-footed with each step he took, and he got many approving nods from his envious guy friends.  And who wouldn't be envious?  Beside him walked the most beautiful woman that ever graced the grounds of this campus.  Never mind that she was followed by four formidably robust guards.  He was lucky.  Lucky, lucky, lucky.

            "You know, you never did tell me what classes you're taking."

            She arched a brow and grinned.  "Curious?"  
            "Like a cat by a goldfish tank," Mitsui smirked.

            "But you already know, so there's no need to tell you," she replied, still grinning.

            "Huh?  What kind of answer is that?"

            "You'll see."

            Their little group happened to run into Mr. Harada who was talking to a reedy man with coke-bottle glasses in his late thirties carrying several thick textbooks in his arms.

            "Ah, good morning, Reiko-chan," greeted the president.  "I'd like to introduce you to the department chairman of the math department, Nishida Kazuma."

            The book-burdened man was greeted with a bow.  "I am pleased to meet you, Nishida-sensei."

            "And this lovely young lady is Nakamichi Reiko.  She's a new student, and she'll be taking some math classes here.  Nishida, I'm willing to bet she'll ace all your exams, she's quite brilliant."

            Glancing demurely down the ground, she mumbled, "Harada-san, there is no need for honeyed words."

            Mitsui smiled at the president's reaction.

            "Well, I must be going now.  Pleased to meet you, too, Nakamichi-san."  The reed with glasses curtly acknowledged them and disappeared into his corner office.  The president merely shrugged.

            "What an eccentric man…" he sighed.

            He apologized to Reiko for not having the time to show her around and thanked Mitsui for taking his stead.  He left the bemused pair and their guards, walking away while looking down on his Palm Pilot.

            "I guess there are people who don't have the time to stay still and people who need all the time to be still."

            Reiko cast a sideways glance at the shooting guard who was still ruminating on his words.

            "Nakamichi-dono, it's five minutes till the hour."

            "Oh.  Thank you for reminding me, Sakai-san.  We wouldn't want Mitsui-san to be late for his classes now, do we?"

            Mitsui was a little puzzled and eyed her with a playful grin on his face, noting the elfin tone in her voice he often heard in his little sister's voice when she was up to something.  He squinted suspiciously at her cryptic blue eyes.

            "I guess not," he replied.

            "Well then, shall we go?"

            "O-okay..."

            He didn't get it, but he didn't care.  As long as she was there beside him, he wouldn't protest.

            They walked to the next building and entered the main hall, turning many heads as they passed by.  The bodyguards were wearing their black suits that day, and their tall figures towered over most of the people around them except for Mitsui and the approaching Akagi.

            "Yo, Mitsui, Reiko-san.  I heard from an overjoyed Nanami this morning that you were stellar during yesterday's practice.  Congratulations, though I think everybody knew it was a gimme for you, Reiko-san."

            She blushed as she thanked him and gave him a quick bow with her head.  She introduced the tall center to the men around her.  After getting acquainted, all entered the lecture hall, much to Mitsui and Akagi's surprise.  Taking a seat beside Mitsui, the guards took their positions by the two exits and the outer seats of the row where they sat.

            "Are you in this class, too, Reiko-san?" Akagi inquired.

            "It seems that I am now, Akagi-san," she replied with a smile.

            Mitsui beamed and finally understood.  "That's great news to me."

            It came time for afternoon practice and Mitsui waited at the top of the steps outside the annex gym as promised.  Reiko had to leave to make some more calls and had to return to her house.  Feeling the wind blow past him, Mitsui wondered who she had to speak to and what they talked about.  Were they loved ones, perhaps?  Maybe her parents.  Or maybe a boyfriend.

            // Man, I hope not...//

            He didn't think that a boyfriend would approve of him being around Reiko all the time and that it would be violently upsetting.  If he was her boyfriend, he would be.  He certainly didn't want to get into a confrontation if she did have a boyfriend, especially if that boyfriend was as brawny as her bodyguards.

            That is, IF she had a boyfriend. 

            His eyes caught sight of the black Suburban and followed her form from the moment she stepped out of the vehicle with two of her men to the second she reached the top of the steps.

            Inside the gym the ladies of the volleyball team all sat in a circle, legs stretched out and torsos flexed forward.  They were tickled by the idea of Mitsui joining them to stretch out before practice and made room for him in the circle, the single thorn among the roses.  At first he felt awkward stretching in synchrony with a bunch of girls.  Then again, he was sure many other guys would kill for the opportunity to be in his shoes right then.

            Stretching was over and Mitsui took comfort in Reiko's soft smile, her rosy lips uttering the same reassurances he had given her yesterday.  He stood and pulled Reiko up to her feet, his eyes fixed to her bright blue ones.

            "Good luck, Mitsui-san.  I'm sure you'll astound them."

            He laughed.  "If I can come close to how well you did yesterday, I'll be happy."

            "Round it up, ladies!" shouted Coach Sato at the girls.  He nodded acknowledgment at the shooting guard.  "Kick some ass, Mitsui-kun!"  The rest of the volleyball team cheered him goodbye.

            That made the shooting guard smile.  Turning his gaze back at Reiko, he said, "Okay.  I gotta go.  In case I don't see you after practice, I'll see you at the party.  All right?"  
            A smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she nodded.

            Upon entering the main gym Mitsui was greeted by a jolting handshake from the coach named Miwa and pats on the back from all the players, including Akagi and Miyagi.  The basketball team did some shooting drills and worked on new plays, the coach observing the interaction between the former Shohoku High players.

            The way they ran across the court.

            The way they passed the ball to each other without even looking.

            The way their eyes communicated silently.

            They moved like clockwork.

            Mitsui's accurate shooting more than exceeded the basketball coach's expectations.  He only regretted that he didn't join the team sooner.  For about five minutes or so the coach asked the shooting guard to shoot three-pointers from every point of the arc, a task Mitsui did with pleasure.  It was his favorite drill.  Every basket he made went in.  Shouts of support from his new teammates fueled energy into his shots.  Akagi and Miyagi stood by the bench with smirks on their faces, drinking from water bottles.  Mitsui had remained consistent as always.  When the shooting guard got to the other end of the arc, he ended the drill with a jump shot and released the ball with the same fluid form as before, the one of  the most beautiful Coach Miwa had seen only a few times in his coaching career.

            "All right, gather in, gentlemen.  Great job, Mitsui-kun.  I am so glad you finally came to your senses and joined the team."

            The team laughed.

            "Just to let you know, Mitsui-kun, we've got a game this coming weekend."

            The shooting guard's ears perked up.  "Miwa-sensei, will it be a home or away game?"  
            "Home."

            "Oh.  Do you know if Sato-sensei's team plays home or away this weekend?"  
            "I'm not sure.  But you can ask him right now, he's up on the balcony bleachers."

            Mitsui looked up and scanned the seats above.  Sure enough, the volleyball coach sat on the first row by the railing, his new player sitting beside him.  The shooting guard's lips parted slightly at the sight; his heart skipped a beat.  How long had she been there?  He thought she was busy playing next door in the annex gym, yet there she was, watching from above for God knows how long.  He was suddenly conscious of himself.

            "Oh no, not you, too, Mitsui-kun..." said Coach Miwa, shaking his head and smiling.

            "What about me?" asked Mitsui.

            "Miwa-sensei found out that Kazuma and Keiichi here are head-over-heels crazy for two of the girls on the volleyball team," explained Miyagi while nudging the two blushing players, Akagi suppressing a laugh in the background.

            "Gentlemen, I don't care what you do off the court, so long as you don't let it jeopardize your ballgame."

            "Hey coach, since we're talking about off-the-court business, you coming to the party tonight?" asked Miyagi.

            Coach Miwa laughed.  "If the party has booze, he will come!"  Everyone jeered at his answer.  Looking down at his watch, the coach changed his tone.  "We've got ten minutes left, gentlemen.  To the lines, please."

            The players hurried to line themselves in a row at one end of the basketball court.  At the coach's command, they sprinted to the center line, back to the starting line, then all the way to the other end of the court and back again.  Horses.

            Mitsui's eyes found themselves straying to the balcony where his stretch partner sat.  She got up with Coach Sato and made their way to the stairs.  After completing another horse, his eyes searched for her to descend the staircase, and he saw the two approach the basketball coach.  

            He watched them as an introduction was made, his throat burning from the quick exchange of air the exercise demanded.

            Another horse.

            He spied on them, and Coach Miwa had a slight pink tinge to his fair visage.  Reiko did it again.  He smiled as he ran to the center line.  

            The coaches now shook hands and Coach Miwa seemed to be thanking Reiko with a bow.  He quickly averted his gaze when Reiko looked at the running players, her hands behind her as she stood by the coaches.

            The team did over a dozen horses and all the players were leaning against the padded brick wall, breaths ragged from the running drill.  Mitsui thought the ten minutes lasted an eternity; he hasn't done much running in a while.  He looked up at the coach and was disappointed that Reiko had left.  He just hoped he didn't look like an ass on the court.

            After practice was over, Coach Miwa handed the shooting guard a folded piece of paper and gave him a pat on the back, expressing his thanks for joining the team.  He waited until the coach walked out of the gym and the other players flooded the locker room to read the note.

            _Mitsui-san –_

_                        Please give us a call to tell us what time you'll be at the party.  _

            He had hoped that the note came from her personally, but left unsigned, it only left him to speculate.

            "Mitsui!  Quit standing there and hit the showers!  You probably smell like an ox!" yelled Miyagi.

            The shooting guard cocked a grin at him.  "How the hell would you know, shorty?

            "Why else would your princess leave so soon?  She probably smelled you, you reek of sweat!"

            "What?!  Why you—"  
            Miyagi laughed and ran into the locker room and an aggravated Mitsui pursued.

            Shouts through the locker room could be heard seconds later.

            Upon arriving home, Mitsui hurried up the stairs, threw his things in his bedroom and took another shower.  He worked up another sweat on the way home trying to give Miyagi a good-natured but rough beating.  The point guard was lucky that Akagi was there to hold him back.

            After getting dressed, he walked downstairs and received loud cat calls from his family.

            "Looking good, son!" his father approved with a thumbs-up.

            "My, Hisashi!  You look great!" his mother sang, teary-eyed.

            "Wah, you look so handsome, Oniichan!" Ami winked.

            "Thanks," he replied awkwardly.  He picked up the phone and dialed Reiko's number.  

            "Hello, Reiko-san?  I'll be at Miyagi's in ten minutes... Okay... I'll be waiting then... See you there."

            As he hung up, his mother happened to sneak by with a digital camera.  By the time he turned around to look, his image was captured in his mother's tiny little camera.

            "Mom!  What are you doing?!"

            "My son doesn't dress up like this everyday!  I must capture these few moments to remind myself that I have a fine-looking son when I'm old and gray."

            He rolled his eyes.  Taking his leave he set out for Miyagi's house, only several blocks away.

            He rang the bell and Ayako answered the door.

            "Mitsui, you're early!  You usually show up fashionable late to Ryota's parties.  Come in," she ushered.

            "Thanks," he said, taking a look at the deejay equipment Yohei was setting up.  "Hey Yohei, how's it going?"  
            Yohei beamed at the shooting guard.  "Yo, Mitchy!  Long time no see!  Heard you've got a great-looking girlfriend.  Where is she?"

            "Yeah, Mitsui.  Akagi told me she's got you wrapped around her finger," Ayako teased.

            Feeling himself redden, he brought two his fingers to his furrowed brow.  "Damn, how does everybody know about her?  And she's NOT my girlfriend!"

            "Well, I guess from that reaction you really are wrapped around her finger," she cajoled.  

            Out of the kitchen came Miyagi who found his place by Ayako's side.  Mitsui can't help but think how good they look together.  He smiled.  

            "Hey, Mitchy.  So, we're finally gonna meet her!  Wait, where's Reiko-san?"

            "I'm supposed to wait for her outside.  Hey, didn't you see her at practice while we ran horses?"  
            "If I did, I didn't get a close enough look."  
            Ayako pinched Miyagi's arm.  "Ow!  It's not like I'm interested in her, Aya-chan!  I just want to know who Mitsui's crazy about.  Admit it, you're curious, too!"

            She pouted.  "You're right, I'm really curious."

            Mitsui heaved a sigh.  It was time to change the subject.  "Have Hanamichi and Rukawa arrived yet?"

            "Well," piped in Yohei, "Sakuragi and Haruko-san are gonna be late, they're at her piano recital as we speak.  Rukawa's at the mini-bar."

            "And Akagi?"

            "Right here," answered the tall center, his mouth preoccupied with a chicken drumstick.

            Mitsui's hands dug in his slacks and he cleared his throat.

            "Um, listen guys, Reiko-san is new to Kanagawa and she doesn't have many friends our age.  She's always with her bodyguards, and she's kind of shy, but she's a great person once you get to know her.  So please, don't be intimidated by the guards, okay?  They look stern, but they're actually nice..."

            "We get it, Mitsui," said Ayako.  "Sayuri called me earlier and told me about her and her 'gorgeous' entourage.  Don't worry, we'll make sure your angel has a good time, right, Ryota?"  
            "I'm all about the 'good time' part, but what's with this 'gorgeous entourage' thing?"

            She smirked and winked.  "We're even now."  Waving them off, she excused herself to finish preparing the food in the kitchen, Miyagi following her and fishing for reassurance that she wasn't one bit interested about the bodyguards.

            "Well, I don't want to be in the middle of that argument.  Guys, I'll be waiting for her outside."

            "The guys should be here soon as well.  Go be the doorman, Mitchy," sneered Akagi.  

            "Shut up," he answered mockingly.

            Miyagi's house was a little larger than Mitsui's, and in the front yard was a garden of flowers which Mrs. Miyagi painstakingly tended to on her free time.  He sat on a wicker chair and waited by the date.  Sure enough, the basketball team came in a big herd, each one giving Mitsui a firm handshake an a pat on the shoulder.  After they all entered the house, he glanced at his watch.  Ten minutes had passed.

            Standing up, he walked through the gate, looked around to find the black Suburban parked a few houses down from the Miyagi's residence.  All four bodyguards in button-up shirts and slacks were standing outside the car with no Reiko in sight.

            // _Did__ they get lost? //_

            He approached the men and was greeted by Fuji.  "Hey, Mitsui-san.  She'll be out shortly."

            "Where is she?"  
            "Inside the Suburban," replied Sakai.

            "Last minute touches?" guessed the shooting guard. 

            "Phone call," said Jackson.

            They stood by the vehicle looking at their surroundings: the flowery potted plants of the house in front of them, a trellis thick with snaking wire plants, a bird cage with a red bird chirping.  All heads turned when they heard a car door open.  

            Reiko stepped out of the vehicle, smoothing her skirt of iridescent black.  The silk fabric clung to her like second skin at the hips and flared out, and the same color blouse she wore was a scoop neck cut, revealing soft skin that covered the bony prominences of her clavicles.  A familiar pendant hung around her swan-like neck, and the blush on her cheeks was real.  Kept out of her face, her thick silken hair was artfully pinned back and fell loose past her shoulders, a sight he'd only seen once before.  Her eyes that shone bright blue found his gawping one and she smiled. It was difficult for him to breathe in the presence of her resplendent figure; it took much more self-control to will himself from reaching for her and kissing her.  Mitsui tore himself from this wishful thinking and slightly shook his head.  

            "Hello, Mitsui-san.  I apologize for the wait, I had an urgent call.  Will this attire be appropriate for the party?"

            He nodded, the apology forgotten.  "You... you look great," he stammered.

            "Thank you, Mitsui-san."  She noticed the redness of his cheeks and the shirt he was wearing.  She smiled.  "That shirt suits you very well.  You look very good in it."

            It was the shirt she gave him.  He melted at the compliment and was now blushing furiously.  

            "I guess your eyes and my shirt match."  He motioned to the men to follow his lead, Reiko walking alongside of him.  Through the gate, they arrived at Miyagi's front door.  Mitsui glanced behind and noticed Jackson jabbing the younger Fuji with his elbow.  He grinned. 

            "I... I'm a little nervous," she whispered.

            "Don't worry.  I'll always be nearby, just come get me if you feel uncomfortable, though I doubt that'll be the case.  Everyone here's nice.  So you ready?"

            She smiled faintly and nodded, her eyes retreating into grey.  

            He reached for the doorknob and ushered the group in.  The living room was filled with people, and Yohei and Akagi were placing the last speaker in place.  Ayako was first to notice the guests.  She excitedly whispered into Miyagi's ear and the two wove through the crowd of guests to stand before Reiko and her men.

            "Hey guys, this is Reiko-san.  And to her left is Sakai-san, this is Jackson-san, Fuji-san and Miller-san.  Everybody, this is Ayako and Miyagi."

            "It's a pleasure to meet you," Reiko greeted with a bow.  The men followed suit.  Jackson produced a bottle of wine he held from his back and presented it to Miyagi.

            "This is for your party.  I hope you like it," Reiko said.  

            Miyagi never expected to be given a gift for throwing a party, and he was a little shocked at how Reiko carried herself.  He was told that she was very, very polite, but he didn't think it would be like this.  He accepted it with thanks and invited them to living room.  Plates of food were on the dining table, and the mini-bar was seeing a lot of traffic, Rukawa being the bartender.  Miyagi asked them to help themselves.  Ayako left Reiko to chat with the volleyball team who clustered themselves by the DJ equipment and met up with Miyagi who was clumsily looking for a bottle cooler.  

            "Ryota, she's so cute!  Did you see her eyes?  They're gorgeous!" she exclaimed.

            "Aya-chan, this girl's got some serious money.  Look at the year on this bottle."

            She looked at the label and saw the year on it.  '1970'.  Ayako was clueless when it came to the different kinds of wines but she knew that the older they were, the more expensive they retailed.  "Oh my gosh!  How generous of her!  That bottle is older than us!"  

            "Tell me about it," mumbled Miyagi, still looking for the bottle cooler.  Mitsui found the two of them opening cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, and Ayako beamed at the shooting guard.

            "Mitsui, your girlfriend is so pretty!  It's like she stepped out of a love story!  I'm so happy for you!" she squealed.

            "Ayako, she's not my girlfriend!" he said through his teeth, looking over his shoulder and hoping no one else heard them.    
            "Ah, found it!  I'm with Aya-chan on this one, Mitchy.  She's a pretty girl.  And if you were as smart as me, you'd better get on the ball and make that girl yours, just like I did with my Aya-chan.  There are plenty of wolves out there!"

            "Yeah, yeah... dude, she's not a piece of meat, all right?  And I don't know her all that well yet," he reasoned.

            "But we know you like her, or you wouldn't be going red like you are now," chorused Ayako.  She glanced over Mitsui's shoulder to check on his lady friend.  "She seems to be getting along fine with the girls, she's not that shy like you said."  

            "I'm glad about that."

            From the living room the music boomed through the speakers, an up-beat tune that Yohei played on the turntables.  The rest of the Gundan were busy flipping through cases of CDs.  The bodyguards were not too far away from Reiko, and they all got offered a drink by Ayako.  Rukawa for reasons unknown to her made a mean blue Hawaiian, and everyone was holding a glass of it.   

            "Reiko-chan, I'm so glad you brought the cuties with you!" whispered Sayuri.  "Won't you introduce us?"

            "Pleeeaaase?" pleaded Miki.  

            They made her laugh and Reiko walked them over to where the men were standing with some of the players of the basketball team.  She gladly introduced them to all four, and the older guards couldn't help but grin at the two younger ones whose cheeks stained pink.  The two girls had struck a conversation and both the younger guards were immediately absorbed into it.  Sakai and Jackson coolly walked away, making eye contact with Reiko to show her where they'll be.  Soon, Akagi started talking to them and Reiko was happy that everyone was occupied for the time being.  

            She looked around the house and strayed into the hallway that led to the master bedroom.  On the walls, pictures of Miyagi's family hung, from baby pictures to little league basketball, high school graduation and the present.  She eyed the picture of Miyagi, someone who looked like his older brother and his parents dressed formally for a family portrait.  A memory of her family dressed in the same fashion flashed in her mind.  She was so young then...

            "Lost?" a voice asked.

            She instantly looked behind her to find Mitsui standing with two drinks in his hand.  "Would you like a drink?  Don't worry, there's no alcohol in it."

            "Yes, thank you."  Taking the drink from him, her gaze returned to the Miyagi family portrait.  "They look so happy in this picture."

            "Yeah, they're a bunch of nice people.  Even though Miyagi and I didn't really get along back then, we became good friends and his family was really nice to me, not to mention forgiving."

            "Why, what did you do?" she asked.

            Mitsui took a sip of his drink.  "Well, remember when I told you I beat up somebody and sent him to the hospital?"

            She nodded. 

            "Well, that was Miyagi."

            A wave of shock crossed her delicate face as she looked at him with disbelief.  "But... you two appear to be such good friends..." she spoke softly.

            "Oh, now we're good friends.  We even joke about what happened before like it was something stupid we did in grade school."  

            She heard him heave a sigh as he looked at the portrait again.  "Miyagi just told me that his parents are out of town again and his brother's not back from America yet."

            "Oh..."  She still wasn't over the fact that the man standing next to her could beat someone to a bloody pulp to the point of hospitalization and yet still managed to end up being friends in the end.  Mitsui could see her eyes in the frame's reflection and they've been gray since she stepped into the house.

            "Hey, I'm not depressing you, am I?" he said as he nudged her elbow.

            She shook her head gently.  She was about to open her mouth to speak when suddenly a loud voice boomed from the living room.

            "The Genius has arrived!  This party can now officially start!"

            Reiko peered over her stretch partner's shoulder and saw the same redhead from the restaurant, with a girl almost half his size standing beside him.  

            "That's Sakuragi and Haruko-chan, Akagi's little sister.  Let me introduce you to her."  

            The music was pumping and voices chattered away in happy exchange.  Miyagi was first to dance with Ayako, and pretty soon Sayuri and Miki strung Fuji and Miller along to dance.  Seeing how awkward they were with the girls, Reiko let out a small giggle that made Mitsui smile.  

            "What is it?" 

            "Oh, nothing.  It's just amusing how Sayuri-san and Miki-san are making the two guards dance.  I've never seen them dance before," she said.

            "That reminds me... how old are Fuji-san and Miller-san?  They look young."

            "I believe Fuji-san is 23, and Mr. Miller is 24." 

            "Really?  They're practically our age.  They don't mind you addressing them formally?" 

            "In the beginning they protested to it, but it was something I insisted on doing."

            "And why is that?"

            "I... don't know.  I've always referred to their fathers that way, and I didn't plan on changing things."  She swirled the drink in her glass and stared at it, making the shooting guard before her wonder why she was all of a sudden melancholy.  He waited for her blue eyes to surface from their grey hiding place, and it didn't happen. 

            "What do you think of the people so far?" he asked.

            Her smile was faint.  "Miyagi-san and Ayako-san are really nice.  Haruko-san is quite sweet and –"

            "Quite the contrast when compared to Hanamichi, right?" he egged. 

            She giggled.  "He's a very lively person, they suit each other well," Reiko replied.  

            They ended up hanging out in the dining room and watched the reactions of the guests to Hanamichi's silly antics.  He wasn't much of a dancer, but he thought otherwise and strut his stuff anyway.  Mitsui noticed his stretch partner's smile widen with each moment.  He thought maybe this was a way for her to warm up to being around so many people.  He noticed the older guards cast an occasional glance at them, the eye contact with Reiko was brief and acknowledging.  He looked at Fuji and Miller who appeared to be captive audiences of Sayuri and Miki's stories, but they seemed to like it.  

            "Do you think those four will get together?" he asked quietly as he leaned towards her.

            "Maybe," she whispered back with a delighted grin.  She took a sip of her drink and cast a fleeting glance at Rukawa at the mini-bar.  "Rukawa-san is awfully quiet at such a vigorous party."

            "Huh?  Oh, he's always been like that.  But he's a good guy."  Gulping a mouthful of his blue Hawaiian, he wanted to test Reiko's willingness to answer questions.  "Um, Reiko-san, I'd like to ask some questions if that's all right."

            She looked at him timidly and was met by Mitsui's assuring smile.  "I won't ask any more if it bothers you."  She agreed.

            "You didn't get lost on the way here, did you?"

            She shook her head.  "We actually saw you walk through Miyagi-san's gate by the time we arrived.  I just received a phone call that I had to take and I didn't know that it would take a while."

            "Oh... I guess from your family?"  // Please don't say it's from a boyfriend... //

            She was silent for a moment.  "It was my uncle.  He just wanted to make sure I was well taken care of."  

            "Nice uncle."  Mitsui swirled the remaining contents of his drink.  "I saw you earlier with the coach and Sato-sensei at courtside," he mentioned as casually as he could.  "I'm not in any trouble, am I?"

            The question caught Reiko off-guard.  "What ever for?"

            "I don't know... for stretching with you and your team instead of mine?" he suggested boyishly.  She laughed.

            "No, you're not in trouble at all.  Sato-sensei wanted me to meet your coach."

            "That's all?"

            "That's all.  They had a conversation between themselves, and I didn't pay attention to what they spoke of.  Miwa-sensei seemed very pleased with you on the team."

            "Yeah, that's what he told me.  He's supposed to show up tonight, I guess it's past his bedtime already," he commented, glancing at the clock on the wall.  "But it's only 8:30... oh, by the way, when is your first game scheduled?"

            "I was told it was this coming Friday," she answered as she tapped to the beat of the music that boomed throughout the house.  Looking at Mitsui, she asked, "Will there be a lot of people there, Mitsui-san?"

            Mitsui leaned back in his seat thoughtfully.  "Usually the first game isn't too crowded, but I'm not so sure about that.  I only saw a few games before.  I honestly don't know.  But," he grinned, "the volleyball team is considered the 'sweethearts club' by the male student population on campus, and a good number of guys usually come to the games to watch the girls play.  They say they're the best-looking team around."

            She smiled faintly at his words.  "But you know what?" he continued, "I have a feeling the crowd turnout will be much bigger this time around because there's a new sweetheart on the team."  He flashed her a warm grin.

            Reiko's eyes widened at his remark and felt her cheeks flush in unspoken protest.  

            Miyagi appeared and walked towards the seated pair in the dining room with two frosted glasses of margaritas.  "Since you two are the closest to the kitchen, you get to be the first to taste Jackson-san's frozen concoction."  Handing the glasses to Mitsui, Miyagi narrowed his eyes at the shooting guard.  "He's not giving you any trouble, is he, Reiko-san?"  
            Mitsui frowned at this shorter teammate.  "You're the instigator of trouble these days, Ryochin," he uttered.

            After a parry of playful accusations, Miyagi got dragged into the living room by Ayako to dance once more.  "Help me..." he whimpered as he was flung into the dancing crowd.  The two in the dining room laughed soundly at Miyagi's state of submission, the point guard feigning reluctance when in fact he enjoyed dancing with his brown-eyed girlfriend.

            "I've noticed you're wearing the pendant I found," he stated softly.

            She absentmindedly reached for the platinum oval dangling below the hollow of her neck.  She gave Mitsui a smile.  "Yes, and I can't thank you enough.  My parents gave it to me when I was young.  I still can't believe I was careless enough to lose it."

            "Well, I think it's good that you lost it, otherwise I wouldn't be here talking to you."

            She laughed, her eyes revealing their blue depths.  Little by little, she found herself comfortable and light-hearted.  "This is true."  Reiko took a sip of the blended drink and licked her lips of the salt that coated the mouth of the glass.

            "Good?" he inquired.

            "Very," she said, wiping the corner of her mouth with a finger.  Unintentionally, Reiko just quickened the shooting guard's pulse with such simple actions.  Mitsui took a big gulp and tried not to stare at her succulent rosy lips.  "I didn't know Mr. Jackson could make an ambrosial drink such as this, though I don't believe I'm allowed to even drink this."

            "Why not?"  
            "I'm not 21 yet, the drinking age in America."

            "Well, it's okay, you're in Japan now.  When's your birthday, anyway?"  
            "Christmas Day."

            "What?  You're kidding."

            She shook her head.

            "Wow, do you ever feel bummed out for getting two-in-one presents?"

            "I'm afraid I don't understand your question."

            "You know, when people give you a present that's both a Christmas and a birthday present?"

            Reiko shrugged.  "I always received two when I was young."  
            Mitsui laughed.  "You're lucky then.  Don't worry, I won't tell anyone I saw you drinking," he said with a wink.  "Hey, you wanna dance?"

            Her brows raised at the question and looked at Hanamichi dancing.  "I'm not sure... I'm afraid I've never done that type of dancing before."

            " 'That type'?  Does that mean you know another type then?"  
            Reiko placed the pad of a finger against the cold condensation that formed on her glass.  "My parents encouraged my older brother to learn ballroom dancing just like my sister.  I became his default partner when my sister went to Rome for college."

            // No doubt she's really affluent... //  Nevertheless, she was telling him of things he didn't have to plumb out of her, and he smiled at her slow progression of openness.  

            "Show me," he said.

            She blinked in surprise and gave him an inquiring glance.

            "Ballroom dancing... please show me how to do it."

            "But... we have no music," she replied faintly.

            "That's okay, you can count off for me."  He hoped that it didn't sound too much of an awkward request.  She looked at their surroundings.  

            "We will need some room, Mitsui-san."

            The shooting guard's eyes scanned the crowded house and spotted the sliding glass door that led to the backyard.  "Will the backyard do?"

            "Yes, that would be fine.  Please give me a moment to tell the men where I'll be so they don't worry."

            He nodded and watched her disappear into the kitchen.  Mitsui stood and weaved through the dancing mass, shouting hellos above the booming music and nodding at Hanamichi's gundan.  All were oblivious to the sliding door open and close, either they were too busy chatting or dancing to the beat of Yohei's house mix.

            There was a slight chill outside, and the breeze spread the fragrant scent of Mrs. Miyagi's jasmine flowers.  The moon was full and out, shining its faint rays that reflected off the dewdrops on the grass.  His head whipped around to the sound of the sliding door open, expecting her to be followed by at least one of her men but finding her alone.  Instead, Jackson's built form stood by the sliding door, waiting for the shooting guard to see him.  He gave a nod and the guard turned around.

            "What would you like to learn, Mitsui-san?" she asked, her voice like a song to his ears.

            "The easiest one there is to learn.  Go easy on me now," he jokingly pleaded.  

            "Shall we start?" Reiko asked and was answered with an eager nod.

            "All right.  The gentleman usually holds his hand out to the lady, like this," she said, extending her hand towards Mitsui.  He smiled and copied her move and she clasped his hand in hers.

            "Then the gentleman places a hand by the lady's waist, like this..."  She closed the distance between them, took the shooting guard's unsure hand and guided it right above her hip.  Mitsui had to concentrate on his breathing.  She was very close...

            "The beat is in three counts.  The gentleman always leads, and the steps go like this..."

            Her voice echoed a soft tone in his ears as he looked down at her feet and listened to her counts, feeling the warmth of her hand in his.  He got it in the first attempt, and soon she stopped counting.

            "Now keep your head up and look at me," she instructed.

            His eyes immediately found limpid pools of blue that shone an ethereal glow under the moonlight, quite the contrast from the grey before.  Mitsui's heart just about stopped and he unconsciously squeezed her hand, as if to reassure himself that he wasn't imagining her before him like in his dreams.  Her head turned at the pressure against her hand, that familiar tingle spreading from the tips of her fingers and warming her insides.

            "I'm sorry," he mumbled, letting the pressure off.

            "It's quite all right," she assured him.  "You're a very good dancer, Mitsui-san."

            He smiled.  "I've got a great partner."

            They swayed and danced under the moonlight, Mitsui still hearing Reiko's quiet counts in his head, both figures silent in the stillness of the garden.  He never thought he'd end up doing something like this tonight.  Boldly he drew her closer after feeling her shiver from the chilly breeze that blew over them.  A faint gasp escaped her lips.  

            "Would you like to end this lesson now?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper in her ear, his soft hold still moving her.

            "It is getting a little cold, though you are rather warm," she said into his ear.  "It's been a long time since I danced the waltz."

            "Oh, is that what we're dancing?"

            She quietly giggled.  A few moments more and they stopped altogether, his eyes unabashedly glued to her, Reiko's cheeks blushing from the chill in the air and the weight of his stare.

            "Reiko-san... I can't let tonight end without telling you something very important."

            She was a little taken aback, the blood rushing to her face in anticipation of his words.

            "I don't think I've met anybody in my life before who's made an impression as deep as you have..."

            She blinked at him and his words.  He was impressed?  She only taught him how to dance the waltz...

            "You're the most wonderful person I've ever had the chance of meeting... you've made an impact on everyone around you, especially me.  You've accepted me despite of what I've been, and I'm very thankful and relieved for that.  I'd like to know so much more about you... I'm afraid that what I've seen and experienced is only the surface.  I... I hope that one day I can be someone you can open up to, just as I have in you, whenever you want to."

            She found herself speechless.  No one has ever told her such things before.  The look on his face was sincere, and his words resonated through her mind.   Before she could collect her thoughts to form a reply, the sliding door opened.  

            "Nakamichi-dono, your teammates would like for you to join them for a moment," said Jackson.  

            A wave of embarrassment washed over the shooting guard.  He completely forgot that Jackson was just behind the sliding door.  Yet, he was glad he finally got it off his chest, though he wanted to say so much more.  There will be other times, he thought.

            "Thanks for the lesson, Reiko-san.  Let's go in before you freeze," the shooting guard said, the hand at her waist moving to the small of her back to lead her back to the party.  Her face was still flushed, and she showed no signs of dismissal from her even though she didn't say a word.  As they stepped into the midst of dancing bodies, the girls of the volleyball team happily tugged at Reiko and began to chatter gleefully.  Over their shoulders she saw Mitsui standing beside Jackson, smiling at her.  She smiled back.  For now, this reply will do.  


	10. Chapter 10

I would like to give special thanks to yoriko sakura-chan, tensaispira, Ms. Joy Gavica, rurouni, Ian, and a very honest friend named Marc for their words support and encouragement, as well as all the wonderful people who took the time to read this humble piece of mine.  

This is for you.

**Iron kitty**

            "Hello, Uncle Tak, how are you today?"

            "I'm fine, thank you.  So how did the party go?"

            "I had a pleasant time.  All of my teammates were there, and I met a group of nice people."

            "That's great!  No one hit on you, did they?"

            A laugh.

            "No, although Mr. Miller and Fuji-san got hit by Miki-san and Sayuri-san's charms."

            A chuckle.

            "But they're nice, right?"

            "Yes, very."

            "I think that's kind of funny.  Miller and Fuji's sons have always been good kids... What about Mitsui-san?  How is he?"

            Recollection.

            "He asked me to teach him how to waltz."

            "Really... I thought it was an informal college party."

            "Indeed.  But when asked to dance initially, I was unsure how to... and I think to make me feel better, he danced the way I knew how."

            "That's very nice of him... I have a feeling this Mitsui-san of yours is quite smitten by you."

            Crimson silence.

            "Does he know about you?  
            "I... don't believe so."

            "Will you tell him?"

            Reticence.

            "I am afraid to."

            Understanding.

            "Just take it one day at a time, Rei."

            Cough.

            "Are you feeling under the weather, Uncle Tak?"

            "I'm fine... just catching a cold I guess."

            "Please take care of yourself, Uncle Tak.  The hospital is not the healthiest place to work in."

            A chortle.

            "Yes, Dr. Nakamichi."

            "Uncle Tak..."

            Pager beeping.

            "I'm needed in the surgery room now, Rei.  I have to go."

            "All right then.  I'll talk to you again soon."

            "Okay.  Oh, one more thing..."

            "Yes, Uncle Tak?"  
            "Do you feel your move to your father's  summer house in Kanagawa is a good idea?"

            Reflection.

            "I seem to be happier lately."

            A sigh.

            "That's how I feel, too."  A pause.  "Have a good day at school, Rei."

            "Good luck with the surgery, Uncle Tak."

            End transmission.

            She was greeted by Mitsui and Akagi in front of the lecture hall.  After seating themselves, Reiko's casually dressed guards took their usual positions by the entrance.  The math professor entered the room clumsily, stumbling on an electric cord laying on the floor.  After a moment of laughter from the class, the thin man pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose and began to write on the blackboard.  Both basketball players copied the seemingly endless lines of equation, and only after glancing sideways at Reiko did the shooting guard notice that she wasn't writing.  Her eyes were fixed on the board, as if checking the professor's logic, her concentration focused on each stroke of the chalk against the board.

            // _I'm not surprised... she's a genius, after all..._ //

            After filling 5 boards with equations, the professor stopped.  "Please pick up the homework assignment I've placed by the entrance.  It's due tomorrow, people."

            Protests and groans filled the room.  A voice piped out, "This isn't funny!"

            The professor smirked.  "Well, neither is tripping on an electric cord.  Good day, folks."  
            He left the grunting crowd, pleased with the little gift of affliction he left them by the doors.

            Akagi sighed.  "Man, that wasn't cool.  I still have to finish my organic chemistry homework!"

            "He bit our asses this time," Mitsui said, packing up his notebook.

            They filed in line to pick up the assignment sheet, their other classmates uttering silent curses at the pencil necked professor.

            The guards met them outside as they looked over the problems listed on the sheet.  Reiko broke the somber mood.

            "It's not as bad as you think it is.  I am confident that you two can finish this in an hour," she said, glancing down at the equations.

            "I have an hour right now, but I doubt I can finish this in an hour," groused Akagi.  "I wish I had your brain, Reiko-san."

            "But Akagi-san, you do."

            Surprised at the reply, the tall center leaned and whispered to the grinning shooting guard.  "She scares me a little, Mitsui..."

            "Man, just shut up and believe her.  If I was able to do my homework last week without knowing anything, she can teach an ape like you to do a mere ten-question assignment!" Mitsui hissed back.

            "If you let me take this hour from you two, I will show you just how much more you know than you think."

            They were sold on her smile.

            "Ah, you kids are so fired up with studying!" observed the old proprietor of the bakery, handing over three steaming mugs of his special brew.  

            "Thank you very much, Jii-chan."

            The old man blushed and sighed.  "Ah, to be complimented by such a pretty girl..."  With stars in his old bright eyes he disappeared into the kitchen.  The two men beside Reiko laughed.

            "It must be hard being beautiful, huh, Reiko-san?" asked Akagi in a puckish tone.

            "Yup, Jii-chan is member number 3 of the Reiko Fan Club," the shooting guard chuckled.

            "Say, what's this?  This tastes like heaven!"

            She smiled.  "That was my reaction, too, Akagi-san."

            "Jii-chan calls it 'Sunday Morning'.  Like it?"  
            "I love it.  But how come it's not on the menu?" asked Akagi.

            "He only makes it for us," beamed Mitsui.

            "Wow, the privilege of being the fan club's president..."

            Reiko couldn't help but sigh.  They were like a pair of little children finding fun in trivial things.  Yet she liked being in this happy ambience.  She took a sip of her drink and nibbled on a piece of kolache, sneaking a peek at the entrance of the bakery to see her bodyguards enjoying breakfast.  She smiled.

            After forty-five minutes, Akagi gawped at his finished homework like he had just witnessed miracle.  Mitsui spied Reiko's hand by the side of her chair and gave it a soft squeeze, mouthing a silent 'thank you'.  She responded with surprised blue eyes.

            "Reiko-san, how... how do you make things so easy?  I can't believe it..."

            "You can take that skirt off now, Akagi.  I guess Reiko-san is right.  We're a lot smarter than we thought."

            "I will never doubt again," said the tall center, mock tears threatening to fall from the corner of his brown eyes.

            She grinned and drank her Sunday Morning.

            "What time is your game on Friday, Reiko-san?" asked the shooting guard.

            "Three o'clock."

            "Well, I guess I'll see you there," Mitsui said, winking at her.

            "Do you not have a game as well, Mitsui-san?"  
            "Yeah, it's on Saturday, at two... in case you want to watch," the suddenly coy shooting guard mentioned as he glanced down, hopeful yet avoiding his stretch partner's gaze.  She only smiled at him.

            "Hey guys, I'm gonna be late for my organic chem class.  Reiko-san, I am grateful for your help.  I'll see you two later."  Akagi got up and breezed through the door, waving at the bodyguards on his way back to class.

            Reiko averted her eyes to the window next to their table.  Not a cloud in the sky.  It had been so for most of the time since she stayed at her family's summer home, and she didn't expect the weather to be so nice in Japan.  Or perhaps it was just in Kanagawa.

            It was nearly the end of October and the leaves on trees everywhere have completely changed their color from green to red.  The air was getting cooler with each passing day, and one required a light sweater if one was to be outdoors.

            That following afternoon, Mitsui met up with the rest of the basketball team who were already gathered in a stretching circle in the middle of the court.  To his surprise, Coach Miwa yelled at him.

            "What are you still doing here, Mitsui?!  Get your butt to the annex gym now!"

            "What?  What happened?"

            "Just go!"

            He decided not to ask anymore questions for the coach could really give a mean and cold glare.  Mitsui didn't understand, but he knew it had something to do with Reiko.  He began to worry as he rounded the corner.

            // Did something happen to her? //

            Seeing none of the guards by the double doors, he busted through the doors, turning every head in the annex gym to him.  His eyes frantically scanned the court for Reiko, and finding her talking to Sayuri and Miki threw the breaks on his racing heart.  Sakai, watching from the balcony seats, gave Jackson an inquiring glance and was answered by a shrug.  Fuji and Miller who sat by the bench could only raise their brows.

            "Is everyone okay?" he stammered.

            "Why wouldn't they be, Mitsui-kun?" asked Coach Sato, putting his clipboard away.

            Reiko stepped forward and placed a hand on the shooting guard's muscled shoulder.  "We're fine, Mitsui-san," she whispered, brow furrowed.  "Are you all right?"  
            He heaved a sigh, feeling tired all of a sudden for worrying over nothing.  "Yeah, I just... ah, don't mind me."

            "Mi-chan, you're just in time for stretching," chimed Miki.

            // So that's what coach meant... but how did he know... //

            And so began their stretching, his beautiful stretch partner by his side counting off for all of them.

            It was game day at the main gym.  Coach Sato proudly looked at his team as they stretched for the five long sets ahead of them.  They were all in their warm-ups and the ladies looked attractive in their uniforms of white and gold with matching golden ribbons in their braided hair.  Mitsui stood by the volleyball coach, looking at the team roster and the starting line-up.

            "Hey Sato-sensei, why isn't Reiko on the starting six?"

            "When you go to battle, Mitsui-kun, you want the enemy to underestimate you.  We don't have to let them know we've got a secret weapon just yet."

            "Right... have you been reading Sun Tzu war books again?" the shooting guard cajoled.

            "It worked for a general, let's see if it'll work for me this season.  Oh, Mitsui-kun, do me a favor.  After the ladies finish stretching, pull Reiko-chan aside and take her to the annex gym.  Keep a low profile, though.  I want you to warm-up with her there."

            // Warm-up? //

            All of a sudden his mind began traveling the path of imaginations verging on torrid intimacy...

            "Mitsui-kun?  Are you listening?"

            "Huh?  Yeah... oh, they're done now.  Let me go get her."  
            "Thanks a bunch, Mitsui-kun."

            The older guards watched Reiko from the sidelines and Mitsui told them of Coach Sato's idea first.  He then called on her as her teammates craned their necks to watch the opposing team come out from the visitors' locker room.  The spectators were filling the seats quickly, among them Akagi, Miyagi and Ayako.  Fuji and Miller watched the court below from the balcony seats.  

            "Sato-sensei wants to keep you a secret, Reiko-san," the shooting guard said quietly.

            She blinked at the idea and looked to Jackson and Sakai for explication.

            "He just wants me to warm-up with you, that's all, although I don't know how much help I'll be.  I'm not very good at volleyball," Mitsui confessed timidly.

            The shooting guard let the way to the annex gym to find the volleyball net already set up with a rack of balls on the side.  Coach Sato had thought of this plan beforehand.  The guards waited outside the double doors.

            "Um... so, how do you warm-up?" Mitsui asked, grabbing a ball off the rack and palming it easily in his hand.

            She giggled and motioned for him to stand on the other side of the net facing her.

            "Perhaps you can do this blocking exercise with me, Mitsui-san."

            "All right.  Show me how to do it."

            "Jump straight up and down when I do, and try to push my hands back behind the net."

            "Okay..."

            And so ensued the drill, the two jumping in unison, touching hands over the net and pushing off against each other.  Several minutes went by and Mitsui could notice the tiny grin on her lovely face whenever she pushed off against his hands.  It looked like they were giving each other double high fives, and he was a little surprised at the warmth of her hands and strength behind each push-off.  He studied her with each jump; her lips would slightly part with every leap, her skin glossing with light sweat, and her azure eyes fixed at her hands' contact against his.  For a good moment he felt as if they were enacting the way things were between them:  they've gotten close enough to be friends, and yet she always pushed off, separated herself, almost retreating into herself before she comes out to get close enough to do it all over again.  She retreats... and he leaves her alone to think about her.  He wondered if he really had that much patience before curiosity consumes him altogether.  He was never like this before... why was his patience so drawn out?  He clung to the hope that she had not forgotten his words at the party.  Her smile was a silent reply that he prayed meant a promise to open up to him, to not be afraid, to not retreat.  He hoped that she would consider what he said.

            He was aware of the need for patience.

            "Mitsui-san," she said, her breath ragged, "may we take a break?"

            "Yeah, sure."

            He sat beside her as she wiped the sweat off her brow with her sleeve.  

            "You're a good blocker, Mitsui-san," she complimented, still catching her breath.

            "Maybe... but I'd do better as a receiver..." he said as he gasped for air.

            Reiko raised her head and gave him a puzzled look.  "Isn't that a player position in football?"  
            The shooting guard laughed and waved her off.  "I was just being silly, that's all."  His breathing was returning to normal, and he took a deep breath and sighed.  "Man, the opposing team's not gonna know what hit 'em.  You're gonna shine tonight."

            She smiled.  "Do you believe in me that much?"  
            He winked.  "You got it, and you better not forget it."  
            They sat in comfortable silence in the following moments, Mitsui staring into the sheen of the wooden floor and listening.  He could hear the droning sound of the air conditioning vents and Jackson's words when they were last on the phone.

            _'I hope you're as mentally fit as you appear... because you are now at the point where others like you stopped and turned away after getting to know about her.'_

            He had thought of this when he got home from Miyagi's party, and it didn't make sense to him.  Without his willing, his mouth opened to speak.

            "Why did they turn away?"  
            He caught himself.  // Shit, did I just ask her that? // 

            "I'm afraid I don't understand your question, Mitsui-san."  She looked at him questioningly, and he knew it was too late to retract his inquiry.

            "I'm sorry, Reiko-san. I promised no questions, I didn't mean to –"  
            "It's all right.  Please repeat and explain your question and I will answer as best as I can."

            Astonished and a little uneasy at her response, he rubbed the back of his neck.

            "Are you sure?  I don't want you to hate me afterwards."

            She only smiled.  "I will not hate you, Mitsui-san."

            // All right, here it goes... //

            "I... I'm sure I'm not the only guy on this earth who has tried to be close to you.  Maybe it's because you're always with Jackson and the others, but... I just want to know... what Jackson-san meant when he told me that I am at the point where other like me stopped and turned away after getting to know you.  I don't understand."  Shuffling his feet, he ran his fingers through his hair.  "Please don't be angry at Jackson-san for telling me," he said, almost a whispered plea.

            The smile from her pretty face faded, her eyes closing upon hearing his last words, only to open and reveal crystal grey eyes.  Mitsui cursed himself.  He broke his promise.

            "I had a feeling you thought of this before," she said, her voice barely audible.  "And I understand now what you meant by being better as a receiver."

            "Reiko-san, don't –"

            He was silenced by the touch of her hand.

            "You've been so patient with me, Mitsui-san.  I can only imagine how patient you've been, putting your questions on hold for me."

            He blinked and wondered if she could read his mind.  

            "I often wondered why your questions never came.  Why did you not ask?"  
            He exhaled a heavy breath and tore his gaze away from her.  "Because I made a promise to myself to keep your eyes blue, and right now I'm not doing a good job with keeping promises."

            That unexpectedly made her smile faintly.

            "Did you do it to protect me, Mitsui-san?" her voice quivered.

            The shooting guard's heart fluttered, making him take his thick hand from hers only to enclose it in his.

            "I only wanted you to trust me.  I don't want you to have to answer to me if it only makes you unhappy."

            Seconds passed like a day, her gaze fixed on the wooden floor.

            "I cannot give you an answer with a simple explanation, Mitsui-san, but... but I will try.  Those others you mentioned, they turned away because they didn't like my dismal circumstances.  It was...  for them....  a burden much too difficult to bear."

            Before Mitsui could react to her words, the double doors opened slowly and Sakai's head poked in.

            "Nakamichi-dono, they're calling the players for the line-up."

            She stood, still looking at the floor, his hand reluctant and not letting go of hers.  He could feel from her touch that she was controlling a maelstrom of emotion within her; she closed her eyes momentarily, as if to forget a scene only she could see in her mind.  When she opened them, she spoke.

            "I have to go now, Mitsui-san.  Thank you for warming up with me."  She made an effort to put her game face on despite the sad tone in her voice.  "I'll do my best."  She turned to him.   "I apologize for making it hard on you... If you would like, you can ask me more questions after the game.  I will not hide from you this time."  And with that, she smiled at him with her soft eyes of gray.

            "Are... are you sure?"

            She nodded.

            "After you lead Sato-sensei's team to victory?" his face lit, hoping she would catch the happy spirit that took hold of him.

            "Whatever the outcome may be," she said quietly.  "I promise."  She held the pinky of her free hand out to the shooting guard.  This was a contract, and he gladly intertwined his fifth digit around hers, sealing her promise with the act.

            The shooting guard quickly stood and tugged at her hand.  "Let's go then, Reiko-san.  I'll race you to the main gym.  The loser owes the winner another promise!" he said, getting a head start.  

            Her startled eyes waxed glints of blue as she saw him break away.  "Hey, wait!"

            They ran to the door, startling the two waiting guards as they breezed through and around the corner, laughing and chasing each other like children. 

            "Ladies, I'm sure you remember this team we're about to play," said Coach Sato, drawing circles on his clipboard.  "They will always use two setters on the court, so watch out for the right side hitter.  Nanami-chan, Sayuri-chan, I want the ball set to the outside hitters, tire their middle blockers out.  Miki-chan, Kaname-chan, defend the sidelines here and here.  Rika-chan, close the gap with the blocks, when you see an opening, call for a quick play.  And Yuki-chan, the back court is yours.  All right, ladies, show me how much you've improved.  It's all up to you," he said, clipboard forgotten and both palms held out.  The whole team piled their hands in a heap onto his.  "Team, on three.  One, two, three –"

            "TEAM!" they cheered in unison.

            Mitsui sat on the outermost seat next to Coach Sato with a stat clipboard in hand.  The coach figured that since he was always around the team he could help mark down the stats.  A simple enough task, the shooting guard was told what was what and anticipated the start of the game.  

            "Sato-sensei, wasn't this team ranked third in the region?" Mitsui asked.

            "Yeah, and it's going to be great when we kick their ass!" he replied quietly yet excitedly.  The girls on the bench giggled at his response.

            Two sets passed and Coach Sato's team lost both sets.  They were behind five points in the third set to the opposing team's eight.  The girls glanced worriedly at their coach who still kept a grin on his face.

            "Do you think Sato-sensei is okay, Reiko-chan?" whispered a teammate sitting beside her. 

            "He appears happy," she answered, glancing over the coach.

            A few moments later, Coach Sato stood and signaled for a substitution at the referee. 

            "Reiko-chan, please go in for Kaname-chan," he said as he waved at the left outside hitter on the court.  

            As they met at the sidelines for the bottom referee to mark numbers off a card, Kaname gave Reiko's shoulder a squeeze.  "Show them what you've got, Reiko-chan!" she winked.

            The ball was jump served and Yuki dug it, passing it to a ready Nanami.  She set the ball sailing to the outer left just as Reiko liked it, and everyone on the court, even on the bench, held their breaths as they watched Reiko sprint to jump and hit the ball with explosive force over the opposing blockers' hands.  It hit the floor with a resounding thud just a few inches within the ten-foot line, and the other team was shaken by the feat.

            The girls on the bench cheered madly as they watched the five on the court huddle around Reiko to exclaim encouragements at her, congratulating their attention-weary teammate on her first awe-inspiring kill that compelled the spectators to rise from their seats in amazement.

Almost every ball went to Reiko, and she put it away every time, frustrating the opposing team and its coach to no end.  As Coach Sato predicted, the tide turned for his team and they were winning the third set.

            An hour later the annex gym was empty save for a few stragglers, among them Mitsui, Akagi, Miyagi and Ayako.  Coach Sato and his ladies won, placing them in the spotlight of the collegiate sports world and raising their rank in their district.  It was a jubilant afternoon. 

            The four bodyguards waited by the ladies' locker room and greeted Reiko with compliments as she walked out the door.  The smile she gave them was sincere and grateful, a warming gesture.  They met up with Mitsui and his friends and was again showered with compliments.  This was not something new to her, it all happened before in a different setting.  But she never got used to the attention. She thanked them for coming to see the game.  

            Miyagi and Ayako asked them if they wanted to celebrate their victory, but she politely declined.

            "I'm afraid I promised someone an interview," she said, smiling at the puzzled point guard.

            "Well, I guess you gotta go then... oh, you're coming to our game tomorrow, right?" asked Akagi in a childlike tone, Miyagi and Ayako joining in the chorus.

            "Please, Reiko-san?" the sweethearts cooed.

            Reiko looked to Jackson who gave her a slight nod.

            "Yes, I'll be there."

            "Great!  Well, we've got practice, so have fun on your interview," Akagi said with a thumbs up as they walked out of the gym.

            As they disappeared from her sight, Reiko's heart increased its pace at the thought of what the next few hours held for her.  Shock?  Rejection, perhaps?  Regret?  It would be a gamble, and she often lost at it.  The stakes would be great; she was rather fond of Mitsui's company.  Should he step back and turn away after all his questions, her heart and mind would be prepared to pay the price, but she wouldn't count the cost, for in the end she will have revealed the past she painstakingly dealt with for a decade now.  It was acceptable to come out of hiding once in a while.  Would it really be all right to be seen vulnerable, she wondered.  She would find out.  She will take the good memories with the bad.  With a person such as Mitsui, she thought, the outcome is unpredictable.  

            A tap on her shoulder drew her out of her thoughts.  Reiko turned to see Mitsui's handsome face smiling softly at her.  "Where would you like to have our little 'interview', Reiko-san?" he asked, his expectant gaze yielding to her bluish gray eyes.

            Looking at the gym clock, she took a moment to decide.

            "Mr. Jackson, would it be possible for Mitsui-san to visit the house?"  
            Jackson raised his brows at the request, and the rest of the guards were surprised as well.

            "Y-yes, that would be very possible, Nakamichi-dono," his bass voice answered, Jackson flashing Reiko a rare smile.

            Sakai and Miller led the way through the exit, Mitsui walked beside Reiko and the two remaining guards followed.  While the black vehicle was retrieved, Reiko and Mitsui could hear the broad-shouldered Jackson bedevil a red-cheeked Fuji with taunts of how goofy-eyed he looked at 'his Sayuri-chan' during the game, all the while growls of denial dripped from the younger guard's mouth.  It was uncommon to see this playful side of Jackson, she thought.

            Mitsui sat beside his stretch partner, and their hands collided as they buckled themselves in their seats.  Whispering an apology, she withdrew her hand.  As she looked out the window past the treetops, she felt a warm hand clutch hers gently, and as she turned her head, the shooting guard whispered into her ear.

            "Apology accepted," he hushed, punctuating his response with a quick light press of his thick hand.

            Letting her hand remain in his clutch, her gaze went back to the treetops that seemed to fleet past her.  She found herself smiling at the blue sky above.  She had an odd feeling.  This patient person holding her hand will be different from the others, she thought.


	11. Chapter 11

The aria mentioned in this installment is from Puccini's opera 'Gianni Schicchi'. The aria is sung by the daughter of Gianni Schicchi, Lauretta, who begs her father permission to allow her to marry Rinuccio (her boyfriend), saying if she's not allowed to marry him, she would throw herself into the river Arno. After a plot of trickeries, all is resolved and the lovers are allowed to marry. The translation was taken from Josh van Geffen's Sarah Brightman webpage.  
  
Thank you again for the encouraging reviews.  
  
iron kitty  
  
  
  
  
  
The vehicle entered a gated subdivision known to many in the town as the most exclusive community in Kanagawa. Famous CEOs, successful businessmen and their families took up residence there, and occasionally a popular actor or singer can be seen taking leisurely strolls on the sidewalks. The houses they passed by were mansions, resting on multi-acre lots surrounded by towering trees, neatly trimmed shrubbery and manicured green lawns. Mitsui's mouth slightly gaped at the sight before him as the Suburban drove down the streets of affluence and wealth.  
  
What really widened the shooting guard's eyes was the immense size of the house in front of where the vehicle stopped. Letting the others off, Fuji drove the Suburban into a detached multi-car garage. The Mediterranean house before them boasted magnificent marble pillars that supported a covered walkway. Beautiful arches outlined the tall and wide windows, and at the entrance stood large ornately crafted French doors.  
  
"Shall we go inside, Mitsui-san?"  
  
The shooting guard could only nod; his vocal cords seemed to be paralyzed at the moment.  
  
Miller opened the doors for them and the guards followed the two inside. They stepped into a marble tiled foyer illuminated by a crystal chandelier from above. Sunlight poured from the windows that encompassed the walls of the house.  
  
"It's not necessary to take your shoes off, Mitsui-san," she said, walking towards a small table where a phone rested by a wall. Above it hung a large flat screen panel. Reiko pressed a button and set her things down. An electronic voice spoke.  
  
"Good afternoon, Nakamichi-dono. You have one unread message. Shall I transmit?" the voice asked.  
  
"Yes, please do."  
  
The flat screen came to life and illuminated Reiko's face, on it read:  
  
'Triple by-pass successful. One down, two more stent replacements to go. Did your team win? Will call soon. Be good. - Uncle Tak'  
  
She smiled at the message. "Please dictate this reply."  
  
All of a sudden the screen drew blank except for a blinking cursor.  
  
"Dear Uncle Tak, comma. I'm glad the operation went well, period. Our team won, comma, Sato-sensei was so pleased, period. Mitsui-san is here at the house, comma, I am to be interviewed, period," she said, throwing a smiling glance at the shooting guard.  
  
The bodyguards filed out of the room and disappeared somewhere towards the back save for Jackson who peered into each room carefully as if he was looking for something. Reiko continued to dictate.  
  
"I'll be going to a basketball game tomorrow afternoon, period. Mitsui-san and his team will be playing, period. You don't have to rush on the phone call, comma, please get some rest first, period. I am all right, period. End of message."  
  
Mitsui was astounded. He had never seen or heard anybody use email like that before. The shooting guard watched as she strapped on two elastic bands around her arm and forearm.  
  
// What is that? //  
  
"Send vitals now," she commanded.  
  
"Gathering data now," replied the electronic voice. Within seconds, the band on Reiko's arm inflated, and words flashed on the screen.  
  
'Blood pressure = 90/62  
  
Pulse rate = 80 bpm  
  
Respiratory rate = 16 breaths / min. nonlabored  
  
Temperature = 97.6 0C'  
  
The screen then went blank, the band around Reiko's arm deflated and the electronic voice said, "Message and vitals sent. May I help you with anything else, Nakamichi-dono?"  
  
"Thank you, that will be all for now."  
  
Reiko took both bands off, replacing them into a pouch by the phone. She turned to a dumbfounded Mitsui.  
  
"I'm sorry to make you wait, Mitsui-san. Please make yourself comfortable in the living room," she said, leading him down the hallway.  
  
// Man, her house is like a museum... //  
  
On the walls of the hall hung beautiful paintings of flowery landscapes and green pastures. Orchids of all colors graced every tabletop and end table he saw, and the elegant furnishings in the living room looked like something from his mother's architecture magazines.  
  
Reiko asked him to sit on the large leather couch and he silently obeyed, still looking around him. She waited patiently for him to speak.  
  
"Reiko-san... your house is amazing! It's so big! How would you hear somebody if they were to call you? Do you yell?"  
  
She laughed. "There are intercoms in each room so there's no need to yell."  
  
"Oh, good," he automatically replied, still amazed at the classiness that surrounded him.  
  
"Would you like something to drink, Nakamichi-dono, Mitsui-san?" asked Jackson who appeared out of nowhere.  
  
"Huh? Oh no thanks, I'm good, Jackson-san."  
  
The guard's gaze shifted to Reiko.  
  
"I'll get it myself, Mr. Jackson."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Yoshi-san will be over right away."  
  
"Oh, please call him back and tell him he need not come. I'd like to see him at the restaurant instead. Would that be all right with you and the rest?"  
  
"Yes," the guard replied, rather elated at the suggestion.  
  
"Thank you very much, Mr. Jackson," she said, flashing him a grateful grin.  
  
"Very well," the robust guard answered. He momentarily looked at Mitsui, a look that silently told him to be on his best behavior. "We'll be in the back if you need us." With that, Jackson walked out of the living room.  
  
A few moments of silence passed.  
  
"So, Mitsui-san, where would you like to begin?" she asked.  
  
"Well," he said as he inched closer to Reiko, "where we left off, I guess."  
  
"The last question you asked was 'why did they run away'. Am I correct?"  
  
He nodded, seeing her face pale at the recollection. "Before you say anything, Reiko-san, please tell me what you're feeling right now."  
  
She paused to give him an unsure look, then averted her gaze to the orchid pot on the coffee table. "I'm a little anxious... and tired."  
  
"Anxious about what?"  
  
"The questions you may have for me," she mumbled softly.  
  
"Are you afraid I would turn away as well?"  
  
She hesitated to answer before whispering yes.  
  
"Well, how about I help you get rid of some of that anxiety?"  
  
"How?"  
  
"Lean back in your seat, hold my hand and close your eyes," he instructed, doing exactly as he just said.  
  
Before she could question him she decided to mimic him, thinking that there was some logic or relief in it.  
  
"The day care I work at has a therapist that handles stuff like this, and she always talked to kids who were afraid to talk in this way. I'm not a therapist, though, so just bear with me."  
  
She smiled and obliged.  
  
"Okay. At any point during our conversation, if you hear a question that makes you feel bad or that you're not ready to answer, I want you to squeeze my hand once. When you do, I will stop asking questions. If you've forced yourself to answer a question, I will tickle you breathless."  
  
Reiko cracked an eye open. "How will you know if I do?" she asked.  
  
"Your eyes never lie, Reiko-san," he said, grinning.  
  
"Is this how the therapist does it, too?" she teased.  
  
"Today I'm doing it my way," he stated, his tone playfully bossy.  
  
She smiled and gave in. "Very well."  
  
"Good. Now that the rules are set, we can start. When you open your eyes, this interview will begin."  
  
She opened her eyes and turned to see the shooting guard looking at him.  
  
"First question. Mitsui is a nice guy. Yes or no?"  
  
She was puzzled at this format of questioning, and she unexpectedly giggled. "Yes."  
  
The shooting guard narrowed his eyes playfully at hers, producing another quiet laugh from her throat.  
  
"Well, I guess you're being honest..." he sighed. "All right, on to more serious questions. Why are you afraid of me turning away?"  
  
He could see the light in her eyes fade and waited for the press of her hand. "Because... because it happened many times before."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I... I'm not sure how to answer that question."  
  
"Please try."  
  
She paused for a minute, looking at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, she spoke.  
  
"When I was nine, a girl who befriended me in Italy told me one day that she didn't want to play with me anymore because her parents didn't want her playing with children of rich people. When I was eleven, I heard the same words from a boy who played with me for a short time at a playground, adding that he didn't like being watched all the time. When I was twelve, the graduate students I was introduced to at a pharmaceutical lab in Boston were nice to me at first, but they quickly turned hostile, saying that the only reason the chairman and president of the company liked me was because of my brain and family name. At thirteen, Sakai-san had to carry me away from a group of kids who threw rocks at me, yelling that I was possessed by the devil for being too smart. At fourteen, a boy and a girl I met at one of Uncle Tak's parties treated me nicely at first, but a week later decided to hurl eggs and obscenities at me when they found out I was the one who debugged an encoding program for an experiment and their fathers got fired because they didn't beat me to it."  
  
She paused, seeming to search the recesses of her mind for every disappointing even that marked every year of her life. Mitsui sat still in disbelief.  
  
"At age fifteen I stayed in France, and I was approached by a boy who said he wanted to be my friend. I was happy then, but one day I overheard him talking to his friends, saying that I was easy bait for the taking. Not understanding what this meant, I asked Mr. Jackson and he said that the boy only wanted to do malicious and perverted things to me. Ever since then, I was accompanied by both Mr. Jackson and Sakai-san everywhere I went."  
  
// That little bastard! // his mind screamed, gritting his teeth at her words. // How dare he treat her like that! // He didn't expect the answer to his question to be like this. He didn't know it was hard for her then. His heart ached. He didn't know if he could withstand hearing more from her.  
  
"After people found out who I was or what I've accomplished, they would say, 'Oh, it was very nice meeting you,' and then turned away. It was either because I was too rich or too smart. I grew not to mind it, because I didn't get picked on then. And that is why I am still surprised at how every person I've met so far in Kanagawa treats me so kindly. I'm afraid I'm not used to it... Perhaps it's because they don't know who I am.... to me, that is somewhat encouraging."  
  
Tired, Reiko found herself looking at the orchid on the coffee table, and for a moment she felt time had come to a standstill. Once, long ago, she looked over the sea on the balcony of her family's beach house and thought that one day, she would be able to laugh about everything that happened when she gets older. How sad, she thought, years have gone by and that day hadn't come. Indeed, those times were sad; it only added to the misery she's carried for ten years now... and yet, at that moment, she felt relieved. She discovered that remembering them out loud opened a small window of liberation for her. With unclouded blue gray eyes, she looked at Mitsui.  
  
"Was my answer sufficient, Mitsui-san?" she asked, unconsciously moving the soft pad of her thumb over a large knuckle of his hand.  
  
"Yes, he whispered, his eyes watching hers. "It's more than enough." He was comforted at the sight of blue glints in her beautiful eyes.  
  
"Mitsui-san, may I also ask questions?" she said, her voice ringing innocently in his ears.  
  
"Ask me anything you want."  
  
She smiled weakly.  
  
"Do you pity me, after hearing what I have told you?"  
  
Mitsui was unsure of what to say. He moved closer still to her, their forearms approximating against each other as he eyed the soft and tiny hand in his grasp.  
  
"I feel more admiration than pity for you, Reiko-san," his voice said, its timbre low and deep, almost like confessing a sin. "I can only imagine what it was like for you, and yet you've endured it all."  
  
"I didn't have a choice," she answered quietly.  
  
"So the others turned away because they couldn't handle it?"  
  
"Probably," she assumed, fighting back a yawn.  
  
// I have got to change the subject before I completely depress myself... //  
  
"I should ask you other questions..." he said, tapping his heel against the sofa. "Why would Yoshi-san come here for dinner?"  
  
"He used to be our family's butler," Reiko whispered, her body feeling heavy and worn-out. She fought to blink away Sandman's dreams.  
  
"Really? Wow... and he still works for your family on top of that busy restaurant?"  
  
"He insisted," she replied sleepily. "He has been with our family for as long as I can remember. He didn't have to..." she trailed off.  
  
Mitsui felt her hold on his hand go limp. He looked over and saw Reiko fast asleep, slumped in her seat, her face so peaceful despite of her dejecting revelation. Surprisingly, she handled it well, and even if they were gray her eyes had glinted hints of blue, and that was comforting to him.  
  
// Poor thing... the game must've exhausted her. //  
  
He pulled her towards him, and grabbing a throw pillow on the couch, he carefully lifted Reiko's head and rested it upon the pillow. She mumbled sleepily at her change in position, her drowsy head resting on the shooting guard's lap. Her legs lethargically moved onto the couch and Reiko crumpled into a fetal position like a child. A very lonely child. Mitsui brushed aside a few stray hairs away from her face, thinking that all this was much too much to take in, even for him. This soft, fragile, beautiful young woman asleep before him looked sounded so vulnerable... God only knew what nightmares haunted her.  
  
'Being intelligent is a gift, Mitsui-san. And yet... it is also my curse.'  
  
The shooting guard could feel himself tense up. // So this was what she meant... this was why she was so afraid to tell. // It was unbelievable that whenever she laughed and smiled for him, she harbored that gloom inside her, and he often caught it seeping out as a murky gray in her eyes. But he had seen a happier side of her, one that didn't carry the burden of loneliness and rejection, and her bright cerulean eyes were testament to that. It was hope.  
  
"Maybe I can understand how you felt then," he quietly whispered, gazing at her sleeping form. "But I was a little different back then. I put myself in a position where everyone disliked me. And even then I had people around me... But you... you didn't choose to be disliked, and you were alone."  
  
Mitsui thought it was unfair for him to feel warmth and happiness in her presence while she bore the cursed memory of being forsaken on her shoulders. // How is she even able to smile? //  
  
He affirmed his resolve.  
  
"Trust in me, my blue-eyed angel," he spoke softly, stroke her delicate head gently. "I won't turn away. Don't be afraid. Let me help you. I will take your loneliness away."  
  
The shooting guard bent down slowly and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. He lost himself to the yielding touch of her soft skin on his lips, and his breath held in his throat as his eyes caressed the exquisite line of her face. The sweet light smell of her perfume nearly drove him mad, and he willed himself to sit up and get a grip on himself. He guiltily brought a finger to his lips, silently asking his sleeping stretch partner to forgive him for the stolen kiss.  
  
  
  
Reiko roused to the sound of a softly hummed tune. She stretched herself out, not sure of where she was nor for how long she slept. As she opened her eyes, she saw Mitsui smiling down at her.  
  
"Did you have a good nap?" he quietly asked.  
  
She mechanically nodded, looking around to orient herself. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Mitsui-san, how long have I been asleep?"  
  
"Not even an hour."  
  
She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Forgive me for being rude, Mitsui-san. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."  
  
He chuckled softly. "It's okay, I know you're really tired. I don't mind." // Not one bit. //  
  
"Would you like to ask more questions?" she said, finding his large hand and holding it, forcing the shooting guard's heart to skip a beat.  
  
"Well, it wouldn't be good if you answered all my questions in one sitting," Mitsui replied, silently willing his pulse slow down. "We'd be here till tomorrow."  
  
"But I thought you wanted to -"  
  
Her lips were silenced by Mitsui's finger.  
  
"I'm glad you're willing to tell me what I want to know. But right now, I just want to know what you want to do. I can always ask questions later. And since you lost today's race to the main gym, you owe me a promise," he announced with a smile.  
  
"Wait, I don't recall losing -"  
  
This time Mitsui's thumb stayed her soft lips closed.  
  
"Just promise me you'll reserve some time for these little talks with me," he said, almost pleading.  
  
With a faint smile she nodded, feeling him trace the outline of her lower lip with the pad of his thumb, the touch sending warm but unfamiliar sensations within her, much like the time he held her hand and squeezed it gently. She innocently looked up at him, finally giggling at the slight tickle of his touch against her upper lip. Waking from his trance Mitsui blinked at Reiko's smiling face. Withdrawing his hand, he watched her glance up the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. He chided himself for the lack of restraint at that moment, and he was being far too transparent. He thought it useless; being entranced by her was an enticement he didn't know how to resist. It struck him a little odd that she does not flinch nervously whenever he gets mesmerized by her charms and touches her without his willing. // Man, I've got to keep it together... // He supposed she must really trust him. And yet, that innocence....  
  
"Would you like to join me for dinner, Mitsui-san?" she asked.  
  
"Well, yeah, but I'd have to go home and change into something fancier than what I'm wearing now," he said as he laughed.  
  
"Oh, please follow me then, Mitsui-san," she said, tugging at his hand.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"You'll see."  
  
Walking past the hallway, they ascended the stairs to the second floor of the home. Mitsui again was awed by the size of the rooms and the fine furnishings they contained. He trailed behind her to a large bedroom where pictures of young men engaged in different sports hung on the wall. Looking more closely, he saw that it was the same person in all the pictures.  
  
"There may be something in here for you to wear," she thought out loud, rummaging through the closet that was bigger than the shooting guard's bedroom.  
  
The room was clean and the bed made. A tennis racket, football, soccer ball, basketball and volleyball lay in a corner beside a large oak dresser. On the dresser was a picture of an attractive woman with an equally handsome man standing beside her.  
  
"Mitsui-san, what shoe size do you wear?" her muffled voice said as she looked around in the closet.  
  
"Ten," he answered, still looking at the pictures on the wall. His eyes ran across another photograph of the same man with a little girl in his embrace.  
  
"I think these will do," she suggested as she held up a black suit, vest and white dress shirt in hand. She laid them on the bed.  
  
"Whose clothes are these, Reiko-san?"  
  
"My brother's," she answered, quickly turning around. "Let me get the shoes." Again she disappeared into the expanse of the closet.  
  
"Won't he mind?" asked the shooting guard.  
  
"Not at all," she replied, almost with a laugh.  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"He's not here."  
  
"Oh." // Okay... //  
  
"Are you sure he won't mind?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure."  
  
Mitsui took a look at the clothes on the bed. They looked like they were never used; the tags were still on them with the words 'Giorgio Armani' written across.  
  
"Please try them on and see if they fit, Mitsui-san. The bathroom is to your right."  
  
// What bathroom? // He opened the door on the right as she instructed and found himself gaping at the immensity of the bathroom. It was like a resort in there: marble tiles, a huge tub that could have passed for the children's community pool in his subdivision, large and tall beveled mirrors, even the faucets were elegant. The bedroom and the bathroom alone were like a house within a house. Mitsui went inside and shrugged out of his clothes, feeling strange at wearing someone else's clothes. After donning the trousers, he buttoned the dress shirt at the wrists before putting on the vest and jacket. Turning around, he looked at himself in the mirror and was amazed at what he saw. The suit fit him like a glove, giving smooth and sharp outlines to his broad shoulders and muscled chest. He looked good in the suit. A grin crept across his lips. He stepped out of the bathroom.  
  
"Reiko-san, do I look okay?" he called out.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Reiko-san?"  
  
He peered into the closet but she was no longer there. As he walked past the bed he noticed a shoe box on the floor, a pair of black socks still bound together by a tag and a royal blue tie on the edge of the bed. // Why was everything new? // He looked back at the closet and wondered if there was a department store in there. Mitsui opened the shoe box and wasn't all too surprised to find a pair of fine black leather shoes still wrapped in onion paper and unworn. After putting on the socks he slipped into the shoes. Again, they were a perfect fit. He took the tie and slung loosely around his neck, got up and walked out.  
  
"Reiko-san?" he called out again as he walked down the hall.  
  
"I'm in here, Mitsui-san," her faint voice answered.  
  
The shooting guard found the room where her voice came from. He stopped himself before entering. // Wait... //  
  
"Uh, Reiko-san... are you decent?" he asked, a tinge of uneasiness in his voice.  
  
"I'm in the closet, you can come in."  
  
He took a deep breath and stepped into the bedroom. This one was just as big, but he immediately knew it was a girl's room: the ornate picture frames that rested on the desk and dresser, the floral pattern of the comforter on the king size bed, and the plush animals by the pillows. The room smelled of Reiko's perfume, and he felt his cheeks burn at the recent memory of his thievery. He found himself standing in the middle of the room eyeing the dimming sunlight through the skylight above. Mitsui turned his head at her voice.  
  
"I'll be out as soon as I..." she trailed off. After a pause, "As soon as I get this to -"  
  
She stopped abruptly, sounding preoccupied and she came into Mitsui's view without her knowing, her back facing him. She was reaching for the zipper of the dress that got stuck halfway up her back, exposing the toned muscles on either side her spine that was covered by smooth skin. He froze at the sight and his heart threatened to leap off his chest. The black silk dress she wore was absolutely captivating. Much like the fabric of the skirt she wore to the party, it clung to the curves of her body like one large silken petal. The fact that she was wearing it made the dress all the more alluring. She was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined in his dreams. Mitsui found it hard to breathe.  
  
Almost in a waking dream, he found himself gently pushing her fumbling fingers aside and with one tug pulled the zipper from its snagged position. He zipped it all the way up, letting his fingers linger on the silky-smooth fabric before willing himself to step back.  
  
"Thank you, Mitsui-san," she said. "I've been having trouble with zippers lately," she added, her back still facing him as she smoothed the dress in the front and the sides. She turned around and her bright blue eyes widened as she smiled.  
  
"Oh, you look fabulous in that suit," Reiko declared, her limpid eyes examining him. Her brow furrowed for a second. "You forgot to take the tags off," she said, stepping closer forward to him as she reached for the dangling tags.  
  
Not knowing how much more he could restrain himself from seizing her into his embrace, he reflexively stepped back a little. His move was a second too late, for Reiko was already pulling off the tags. Noticing the tie slung undone around his neck, she took it. Mitsui froze in place, not daring to move when she flipped the collar of the dress shirt and fitted the tie around gently before flipping the collar back down. He could smell that intoxicating perfume of hers, she was so close... Mitsui watched helplessly in blissful torture as she silently pulled on the tie to gauge the length and then tying it with nimble fingers in a full Windsor knot. By then the shooting guard was lost in the depths of her azure eyes, his skin jumped at the light pressure of her fingers as she pushed the knot up to the base of his throat. She smiled at her handiwork before looking up at him.  
  
"There, Mitsui-san, you look like you stepped out of a men's fashion magazine," she complimented as she carefully smoothed the tie behind the vest before buttoning it. "Do the shoes fit?"  
  
// Don't do it... don't reach for her... don't do it... resist... //  
  
"Mitsui-san?" Her bright eyes looked expectantly into his.  
  
"Perfectly," he managed to croak, hiding his struggle for self- control in his white-knuckled fist behind his back.  
  
"That's good." She walked to the dresser and opened a jewelry box, taking out the necklace with the platinum pendant he found weeks ago. Reiko put it on and looked at herself in the mirror. She was thankful that she had showered after the game; it saved her a lot of time from drying her thick locks of hair. She released her hair from the ponytail holder and brushed it a few times, finally wearing silver hair clips to keep her hair in place.  
  
"I hope I look okay," she thought out loud, not seeing the Mitsui's piercing gaze on her.  
  
"Okay is a gross understatement," he said, finally able to breathe and find his voice when she moved away from him.  
  
Reiko turned around and gave the shooting guard a grateful grin. She returned to the closet to get a light sweater and her shoes, all the while Mitsui stood in the middle of the room trying to convince himself that being there, helping her dress, watching her transform into an even more gorgeous creature was not a waking dream, even though it felt like it.  
  
"You're so beautiful it makes my heart ache," he muttered under his breath.  
  
All the bodyguards complimented Mitsui on his appearance as they all piled into the Suburban. Arriving at the restaurant, the guards dispersed to the four corners of the building, occasionally saying hello to the wait staff who passed by. So as not to look menacing, they nonchalantly looked out the windows, giving a cursory glance at the people dining at their tables, scanning the dining room for suspicious faces. The four men met up with the old proprietor who seated them at a table next to Reiko and Mitsui's. The old man Yoshi was glad to see Reiko and her stretch partner, asking him if he joined the basketball team yet as he predicted. He was delighted to be proven right. The men happily ordered their favorites from the menu, Yoshi laughing as he wrote their orders down. The old man recommended their finest cut of steak that evening, and Mitsui took his suggestion. After requesting Yoshi for salmon scaloppini, Reiko spied a few familiar faces in the dining crowd.  
  
"Mitsui-san," she whispered. "Look to the center of the room."  
  
He turned his head to see Coach Miwa, Coach Sato and two women chatting at their table in the middle of the restaurant.  
  
"Wow, I didn't know they were close friends," said Mitsui.  
  
"Sato-sensei looks rather cheery," she commented, noticing the wide grin on her coach's face. Feeling himself watched, Coach Sato looked in Reiko's direction and caught her gaze. He waved at the two athletes looking at them.  
  
"Miwa, look who's together," he murmured. The whole table waved at them.  
  
"Man, Mitsui-kun can sure clean up well," Coach Miwa quietly said, noting the suit he was wearing.  
  
"Who is that pretty girl with your new player, dear?" asked Coach Miwa's wife.  
  
"She's Sato's blue chip player," he chuckled.  
  
Yoshi who passed by happened to overhear their conversation. "You folks know Nakamichi-dono?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, in fact, she plays volleyball for me now at the college, and we just won a game today," Coach Sato proudly affirmed.  
  
All at the table laughed at his enthusiasm while Yoshi left to serve the other guests.  
  
"I can see why that young man looks so happy," rumored Coach Miwa's wife. "He's with a lovely young lady."  
  
"Just like my wife," said Coach Sato, forcing his wife to blush and nudge him at the elbow. They were all laughing.  
  
Moments later Reiko and Mitsui as well as the rest of the men were served their meals, and the shooting guard couldn't believe how deliciously juicy the steak was. Reiko laughed when he said that the food at the restaurant tastes even better this time around. After finishing their meal, Yoshi came by to serve them some coffee, Reiko patting his old arthritic hand as he placed the coffee saucers on the table.  
  
"Yoshi-san, happy birthday," she said, giving him a sweet smile that happily crinkled the old man's eyes. The childlike gesture made the shooting guard smile.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, you remembered," the old man chuckled.  
  
"Did you really think I would forget?" Reiko winked playfully at the blushing old man. Mitsui was surprised she could make an old man blush. "What would you like for your birthday, Yoshi-san? Ask anything you want."  
  
Yoshi laughed. "Anything?"  
  
She nodded eagerly.  
  
The old man held the serving tray on his side as he thought. "Well then, how about a song?"  
  
"All you want is a song?"  
  
"I've only heard you sing a few times in my life, Nakamichi-dono, and I am getting old," the old man said, patting Reiko on the shoulder. "But you don't have to if you don't want to."  
  
"What song would you like to hear?" she asked as she stood from her seat. Mitsui minded his manners and stood as she left the table to walk to the piano by the bar.  
  
"Any song will do. I'm sure that the two couples in that middle table would also be glad to hear you sing. They're celebrating their wedding anniversaries."  
  
Reiko looked at the table he described and flashed a big grin back at the old man. "May I trouble you then to play the mandolin this evening, Yoshi-san?"  
  
The old man's face lit in elation. "Oh, not the piano tonight? This will be quite a treat!" Mitsui watched as he rounded the bar and disappeared behind it, producing a mandolin from beneath a cabinet. He stepped up to the piano bench and sat down. "Now, what shall I play?" enticed the old man.  
  
"An aria for you, Yoshi-san. O Mio Babbino Caro," Reiko replied, her eyes smiling at him.  
  
"Excellent choice. I am honored and I thank you in advance." The old man positioned his hand against the mandolin. Before he rendered the first stroke on a cord, he stood and cleared his voice.  
  
"Everyone," he said, catching every one's attention in the restaurant, "I would like to share with you this birthday present about to be sung for me by a very special person." Yoshi then returned to his seat on the piano bench. "Any time you're ready, Nakamichi-dono."  
  
The old man's arthritic hand seemed to fly as he played cords on his instrument, and a few seconds later she began to sing. Her soprano voice floated through the air that even the kitchen staff stopped preparing meals to step out and listen. Mitsui quietly sat beside Miller and the rest of the guards who leaned forward to listen. The words of the song were foreign, and it sounded like it was in Italian, though he wasn't sure. Like the first time he heard her sing, Mitsui's ears relished every note she sang, even if he couldn't understand what she was singing. Out of curiosity, he chanced to ask Miller if he happened to know what she was saying.  
  
"The song says, 'O Dear Daddy, I love him, he is so handsome.... I want to go to Porta Rossa to buy the ring.... Yes, yes, I want to go there.... And if my love were in vain, I would go to Porta Vecchio and throw myself in the Arno... I fret and suffer torments... Oh God, I would rather die... Daddy, have pity... Daddy, have pity...'."  
  
Mitsui was bowled over that Miller actually understood the words she sang. He didn't know he knew another foreign language. He supposed that the piece she sang was some opera song.  
  
It was a short song, lasting a little over two minutes, but it took just that long before the patrons of the restaurant stood to their feet to give Reiko thunderous applause. She gave the old man Yoshi a respectful bow, and uttered the faint words 'happy birthday' amidst the cheers and clapping. She took another bow, this time to the patrons, and shouts for an encore could be heard among them.  
  
To Mitsui, this was a memory that will forever burn in his mind. He never took her eyes off her for a second while she sang; her melodious voice sealed him into a reverie where her intense blue eyes and soft moving lips ruled his world. Her voice made his hair stand on end, and every fiber of his being was awash in warmth only she had been able to provoke in him.  
  
Mitsui received her with a smile as she took the seat next to him, applause still ringing loudly in the restaurant. The chefs went back to the kitchen with sighs escaping their throats, and the wait staff seemed to move through the dining hall with a lighter step. Her two minutes of magic cast its spell on everyone, and because she was by his side, he was the most spellbound of them all. 


	12. Chapter 12

Game day in the main gym. Coach Miwa stood around with the officials of the game, making small talk before the game started. Glancing at his bench, the basketball coach grinned at his players who were talking amongst themselves. Those who stood out were Akagi, Miyagi and Mitsui, who all listened intently as one of their teammates spoke. In a few minutes, all players from both sides of the team were called for the line-up. The stands were packed, and all the spectators eagerly waited for the game to begin.  
  
Reiko followed Jackson and Miller to the balcony seats, and she was greeted by Nanami who asked her to sit with her. She obliged.  
  
"Had Miki and Sayuri only known that Fuji-san and Miller-san would be here, they would've been the first ones here," mumbled the setter as she snickered. Reiko smiled and turned her head to see Jackson nudging a very red Miller in their seats.  
  
"Are you here to see Mi-chan play, Reiko-chan?" Nanami asked.  
  
"Yes, he and the others asked me to come."  
  
"You know what? I need to make a phone call," the setter said, taking her cell phone out of her purse. After dialing some numbers, she spoke. "Hello, Miki? I want you to call Sayuri right now as well as the rest of the team. Tell them to come to the basketball game right now. Right.... Sayuri's with you? Good. Oh, don't call Reiko-chan, she's already here.... Yes, they're here, too.... Yeah. Just get your butts here, okay? All right, see you in a few. Bye."  
  
She replaced her cell phone back into her purse and looked at Reiko. "You know, this was something we should have done from the beginning of the season. I'm sure the basketball team would appreciate it if the volleyball sweethearts of this school came to cheer them on," she said, winking at her.  
  
"That's really thoughtful of you, Nanami-san."  
  
The setter laughed. "Well, it's a Saturday, and if I get everybody in here, we'll have enough time to goof off as a team before Sato-sensei runs us ragged for tonight's practice."  
  
"We have practice tonight?" Reiko asked, surprised.  
  
"You mean Sato-sensei didn't tell you? That old man..." she grumbled before laughing. "Well, at least now you know, right?" She leaned back in her seat and sighed. "I'm sure Kei-kun and Kazuma-kun would be happy to see Kaname and Yuki here."  
  
Reiko grinned. She glanced back at Jackson who heard what her teammate said and knowingly nodded.  
  
They watched Akagi ready himself for the tip-off. He jumped and got to the ball first, tapping the ball to Keiichi. Immediately Miyagi sprinted to the basket, calling for the ball. The ball was passed to him, and the opponent was upon him. Looking to his sides the point guard could see Kazuma and Mitsui open for a pass. Miyagi faked a pass to Kazuma and his opponent fell for it, bounce passing the ball instead to the shooting guard who took a step behind the three-point line and aimed for the basket.  
  
Nothing but net.  
  
People in the stands were cheering. At this early point of the game, they were already impressing the crowd. The players threw the shooting guard high fives, and they quickly ran to the opponents' court to defend the basket. Reiko noticed Ayako sitting beside Coach Miwa with a clipboard and stopwatch in hand, and she was cheering the starry-eyed point guard on.  
  
The rest of the volleyball team didn't arrive until the end of the first quarter. The bodyguards made room for the ladies on the bleachers, Sakai and Jackson smirking as they purposely left Miller and Fuji to sit with Miki and Sayuri. Nanami led her teammates in full cheer for the players on the court below, prompting Mitsui to look up during the opponents' time-out at the cheering section.  
  
His face put on the biggest grin when he saw Reiko look and smile at him. He felt so happy that she came to see the game, his mind thought of nothing else but making every basket in to impress her. Akagi caught him grinning.  
  
"Dude, what're you looking at?" he asked as he looked to where Mitsui gaze fell. He found his answer. He leered. "Man, the whole volleyball team is here! Kazuma, Keiichi, guess who's up the balcony..." the center sang.  
  
Their teammates looked up and blushed to see the ladies wave at them. The basketball coach took notice.  
  
"It seems all of Sato's angels are in the audience, gentlemen. Well, time-out's almost over. Let's give them a show, shall we?"  
  
Coach Miwa's team burst with vigor onto the court, running their opponents ragged with their quick passes and plays. After the half-time break, the game went downhill for the home team and they won the game 87 to 65, the last basket being Mitsui's net-swooshing three-pointer. After all the players shook hands for a game well-played, Coach Miwa and his players flocked to the locker room.  
  
"Job well done, gentlemen. Fluid game out there. I expect to see more of that in practice on Monday."  
  
"You mean you're giving us Sunday off?" stammered Keiichi as he shrugged out of his jersey.  
  
The coach laughed. "Winning has its rewards."  
  
Akagi squinted at their grinning coach. "Miwa-sensei, there's something you're not telling us," he hinted.  
  
"What? It's just that I've got a little date with my wife on Sunday, okay? You men can be such old ladies," the coach griped.  
  
Peals of laughter echoed throughout the locker room.  
  
  
  
Mr. Mitsui aimed the video camera at his unsuspecting son emerging from the locker room with Akagi and Miyagi.  
  
"Job well done!" sang the Mitsui family, Mrs. Mitsui and Ami smiling at the three men.  
  
"Thank you," greeted Miyagi and Akagi, the center carrying Ami into his arms and whirling her in the air.  
  
"How's the knee, Hisashi?" his mother asked.  
  
"It feels fine, Mom," he answered sheepishly.  
  
"Oh, Miyagi-kun, Ayako-chan told us to tell you she's waiting at the steps," said Mr. Mitsui, placing the lens cap back on the video camera.  
  
"Thanks. I gotta go, guys. See you on Monday!" the point guard said, waving to them as he ran through the doors.  
  
"Ah, young love... say, Hisashi, is your Reiko-san here?" Mr. Mitsui said as he looked at the thinning crowd.  
  
"Pops..." he whined. The shooting guard scanned the crowd as well, and he couldn't find any men in black suits in sight. "Well, I saw her in the balcony seats earlier... maybe she had to go home."  
  
"That's too bad," Mrs. Mitsui pouted. "We had hoped to meet her," she said, watching her daughter chase Akagi.  
  
"I guess there will be another time. Will you be coming home with us, son?"  
  
"You guys go on ahead. There are a few things I have to take care of."  
  
"All right. See you at home, then."  
  
Ami gave the tall center a hug before saying goodbye, and the shooting guard watched his family leave the gym.  
  
"Man, your little sister's growing so fast, Mitsui. Pretty soon I won't be able to lift her off the floor," Akagi joked.  
  
"You'd make a really good father someday, Gori."  
  
Akagi gave him a playful punch. "I'd need to find a wife first. Well, I'd better head home. What are you going to do?"  
  
"I'm going to talk to Miwa-sensei for a bit."  
  
"Serious stuff?"  
  
"No, not at all."  
  
"Good. Are you gonna shoot some hoops with me at the high school later?"  
  
"I don't know yet. If I do, I'll just show up."  
  
"Fine with me. See you later, Mitsui."  
  
  
  
  
  
The shooting guard walked to Coach Miwa's office and found him looking at the game stats. The coach offered Mitsui a seat and he took it.  
  
"Hey, Mitsui-kun, what brings you in here today?"  
  
"Oh, nothing in particular... I just wanted to ask a question."  
  
"Shoot."  
  
The shooting guard ran his fingers through his thick black hair, still wet from his shower. "How did you know about my little pact with Reiko-san?"  
  
"Who said anything about me knowing that?" Coach Miwa grinned.  
  
"Well, I figured you knew since you made me go to the annex gym to stretch out with her last practice."  
  
The coach laughed. "Sato just let me know who to thank for getting you on my team, that's all. I guess Sato and I owe her a lot."  
  
Mitsui's brows raised. "That's all?"  
  
"That's all."  
  
"Oh." The shooting guard silently sat in his seat.  
  
"By the way, Mitsui-kun, you and Reiko-chan look good together. You two are dating, right?"  
  
He reddened. "N-no... we're just friends..."  
  
"I guess being friends for now is good," the coach egged. "My wife thinks she's so pretty, and man, she can really sing!"  
  
"Oh, congratulations on your wedding anniversary, Miwa-sensei."  
  
"Thanks. Wait a minute, how did you know about that?"  
  
"The owner of the restaurant told us."  
  
"Was he the old man she sang to last night?"  
  
Mitsui nodded.  
  
"Wow, she must know some really rich people."  
  
// If you only knew... //  
  
"Well, I just wanted to know about that, that's all."  
  
"Oh, Mitsui-kun, before you go, I need you to sign these," the coach said as he pushed a few sheets of paper on the desk towards the shooting guard. "You're on athletic scholarship now."  
  
Mitsui took the pen beside the papers and signed, grinning as he handed them back to his coach. "Thanks, Miwa-sensei."  
  
The coach let out an exasperated sigh. "You know, if you would've joined the team earlier, you could've been on a free ride sooner. Now go have fun for the rest of the day. You did a really great job today."  
  
Taking his leave, he left the coach's office. Outside the gym, Mitsui spotted a black-suited Jackson standing at the bottom of the steps and talking into a two-way radio, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Upon seeing Mitsui, the guard motioned for him to follow.  
  
The two walked in comfortable silence, and not until they reached the black Suburban did Jackson congratulate the shooting guard on his team's victory. The tall strapping bodyguard got in the driver's seat and told Mitsui to sit up front.  
  
Mitsui noticed that they were the only ones in the vehicle. "Where's Reiko-san?"  
  
"She had to take care of some business at the house. She said to tell you sorry for not greeting you after the game." After a pause, "Do you want to see her?"  
  
His answer rolled automatically from his tongue. "Always."  
  
The bodyguard let out a hearty laugh and drove out of the parking lot.  
  
  
  
  
  
Pulling into the driveway of her colossal house, they got out of the car and Mitsui followed Jackson into the house, though the way they took was through the back door. As Jackson placed a key card onto an electronic reader, Mitsui noticed a rather large house behind them. The door opened, and the shooting guard trailed behind Jackson as they walked through the kitchen and finally into the living room.  
  
"I'll let her know you're here. Oh, and Mitsui-san?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I need to have a talk with you later."  
  
Mitsui could only nod; his words were more of a command than a request. He watched Jackson climb the stairs and disappear into one of the immense rooms. He sat down on the sofa, taking the same pillow he had used to cushion Reiko's head on his lap. Last night, the memory of her stolen kiss played over and over in his head, and he could hear her honeyed voice in his dreams. He smiled at the recollection.  
  
"You were really remarkable on the court this afternoon, Mitsui-san," Reiko said as she walked into the living room. Mitsui stood as she approached him, placing his hands in his pockets and mumbling his thanks. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to congratulate you earlier, I had an urgent task to do."  
  
"That's okay. Thanks for coming to the game, though I didn't know the whole volleyball team would come as well. You should've seen how ecstatic Keiichi and Kazuma got when they saw Kaname-chan and Yuki-chan."  
  
She smiled. "Were you happy as well?"  
  
"Of course," he flashed a grin.  
  
"Mr. Jackson said you wanted to see me?"  
  
// Huh? HE was the one who suggested to come here... not that I'm against it... // Mitsui had to think of something quick.  
  
"Another interview again, perhaps?" she proffered. The shooting guard caught her looking at the grandfather clock once again.  
  
"That can wait," he replied softly. Feeling like taking a gamble, his face suddenly lit. "Hey, would you like to meet a bunch of funny people?"  
  
She smiled brightly. "And who would those people be?"  
  
He knew he would regret this later, but... "My family."  
  
Reiko's smile widened. "Really?"  
  
"Well, Ami told them how stunned she was to find me with such a dazzling woman, and ever since then I've not had one morning go by without my parents asking about you."  
  
He delighted in her soft laughter and gazed at her vivid eyes of blue.  
  
"I remember your little sister, she's an adorable child," she said, looking at the clock again. It was half past two. "I would like to meet your parents, Mitsui-san. However, I was just informed by Nanami-san that we have practice this evening. If we leave now, it will give me a little over three hours to get acquainted with your family. Would that be all right?"  
  
"You don't have to stay the whole time if you don't want to. I don't want you to be late for practice," he mumbled softly.  
  
"Why do you say your family is funny?" she asked.  
  
"Because," he grumbled mockingly, "they like having fun at my expense." She giggled at the response.  
  
"Shall we go, then, Mitsui-san?" she said as she tugged innocuously at the shooting guard's arm, his skin heating at the touch.  
  
"Promise you won't laugh too much?" he burbled, reveling at the soft press of her palm against him.  
  
She beamed. "I promise."  
  
  
  
  
  
Packing her gym bag with clean practice clothes, she walked with Mitsui to the multi-car garage where the men waited. On the way to the Mitsui residence, Reiko asked Fuji if they could stop by a chocolatier for a few moments. Fuji stopped the Suburban in front of a Godiva chocolate shop, and Reiko politely asked Mitsui to wait inside the vehicle. With Jackson and Sakai, she went inside the store.  
  
"Great game, Mitsui-san. You're as good as everyone says you are," Fuji as he looked back at the shooting guard.  
  
"Thanks, Fuji-san."  
  
"Do you think you can score 24 points on three-pointers alone?" asked Miller, sitting in the front seat.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I've got a friendly wager with Fuji here. He says you can't do it, but I bet ten thousand yen you can," smirked Miller, tapping on the arm rest.  
  
"I didn't say he couldn't do it, stupid. I just thought that he couldn't do it in one game," corrected Fuji as he looked out the window.  
  
"Well then, I guess the next game will decide who'll be ten thousand yen richer," Mitsui replied as he grinned at Miller.  
  
The doors opened and Reiko took his seat beside the shooting guard.  
  
"Wow, that was quick," Mitsui said, looking at the two little golden boxes she held in her hand. "What's that?"  
  
"A little surprise for your family." She stowed the little boxes away in the middle console of the vehicle.  
  
Mitsui laughed. "That might be a mistake, my sister will bounce off the walls."  
  
  
  
  
  
Ami opened the door and widened her eyes at the sight of her brother's companion. She excitedly announced her brother's arrival along with Reiko's presence in the house, and immediately the shooting guard's parents emerged from the den and kitchen.  
  
"Mom, Pops, this is Nakamichi Reiko-san," the shooting guard introduced. Reiko greeted them with a respectful bow, startling Mitsui's parents a bit with such courteous manners. In their eyes, kids these days did not have notable manners. She was an exception.  
  
"I am very pleased to meet you," she said.  
  
"Please come in, Reiko-san," ushered Mrs. Mitsui. She asked them to sit in the living room and went to the kitchen afterwards, coming back with a tray of tea and cookies.  
  
"Hisashi told us a lot about you, Reiko-san. I heard you won your volleyball game last night. Congratulations," cheered Mr. Mitsui.  
  
"Thank you, sir. Oh, these are for you," she said, taking the two little golden boxes and placing them on the coffee table.  
  
Friendly little Ami tugged on her shirt. "What's in it, Reiko- neechan?" she whispered.  
  
"Why don't you go ahead and open one of the boxes, Ami-chan," Reiko encouraged.  
  
The little girl's eyes shone brightly as she took a box and opened the lid. Four kiss-shaped chocolates sat in the box, begging to be eaten. She quickly turned to her father. "Daddy, can I eat one?"  
  
Mr. Mitsui laughed. "I guess it's okay."  
  
She eagerly took one and took a bite of it, the child's eyes twinkling in happiness as her taste buds drowned in the richness of the sweet treat. Reiko smiled. Just the reaction she predicted.  
  
Half an hour later Reiko was sitting huddled over a photo album with the rest of the Mitsui family, leaving the shooting guard to suffer in humiliation as Mrs. Mitsui showed her pictures of her little Hisashi growing up. He had forgotten what a picture maniac his mother was, taking a picture of her son every chance she got. Reiko smiled and laughed at the stories Mr. Mitsui narrated along as they flipped through the album's pages, the funniest being their Hisashi mimicking his father while he shaved. In the picture, the shooting guard was five, and he was looking at his father shaving as he stood on a chair with shaving cream all over his face. Mrs. Mitsui sighed.  
  
"Oh, Hisashi was so cute back then..." Mrs. Mitsui trailed off as she recalled the memory. "I wonder what happened," she sneered as she looked at her son.  
  
"What are you talking about? I'm still cute, thank you very much," the shooting guard griped, his eyes closed as he crossed his arms and slightly stuck his tongue out at his laughing mother.  
  
"Not as cute as me!" piped Ami. Mr. Mitsui pulled Ami from Reiko's side and spun her around, bursts of laughter bubbling from her.  
  
What a warm family, Reiko thought. Looking at Mr. Mitsui whirl his daughter round once more, she remembered all the times she laughed like Ami when she was a child, when she tumbled about and played without a care in the world, her parents, sister and brother looking on. She remembered being loved.  
  
"And this picture was taken when Hisashi was awarded MVP on his last year of middle school," Mrs. Mitsui said, a tinge of pride in her voice.  
  
Reiko retreated from her reverie and looked at the picture. There, she saw the boyish look that often showed on her stretch partner's face. She smiled as she leafed through the last page of the photo album, seeing a photograph of Mitsui in his high school uniform with his teammates. She identified them as Akagi, Miyagi, Hanamichi with the red hair and Rukawa with the distant gaze. She closed the album.  
  
"Such wonderful memories, Mitsui-san," she said to her stretch partner as she handed the photo album back to Mrs. Mitsui, a silent look of melancholy in her eyes as she averted them to the box of chocolates on the coffee table.  
  
The shooting guard's eyes did not fail to notice.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"That's better, Sayuri-chan, but make it look like you're going to set the ball to Rika-chan."  
  
After Friday's game, Coach Sato saw how much his team's game improved now with Reiko on the team. It's true what they say about playing with better athletes: they just raise one's level of play. The ladies were breathing raggedly as they worked on hitting drills, and the setters Nanami and Sayuri were being strained the most.  
  
Mitsui and the guards watched from the sidelines as Reiko pounded on the ball from all positions on the court. Coach Sato knew her skill and he knew how to hone it, making the setters practice quick sets to her outside hitter position.  
  
Jackson called to Mitsui quietly and he followed the guard to a spot upstairs by the balcony railing, both watching the ladies practice from above. The shooting guard knew this was about the talk he wanted to have with him.  
  
"She's something else, isn't she, Mitsui-san?" Jackson said, placing one hand in the pocket of his trousers and leaning on the railing with his elbow. It was more of a statement than a question, and Mitsui waited for the burly guard to continue.  
  
"You're a good kid, Mitsui-san. I speak for the others when I say this. We know all about you, and you may have had a couple of slip-ups, but you're not bad. You've been surprisingly nice to Nakamichi-dono since day one. We like you, and for that reason we believe that it is necessary to tell you this."  
  
He hesitated as he eyed Reiko's sprinted approach to the ball.  
  
"Four guards to one person... you probably wondered from the beginning why there are so many of us protecting her."  
  
Jackson stood upright now, placing his other hand in his pocket.  
  
""Two years ago, Nakamichi-dono received threats in the mail that if she revealed the truth behind the effects of a breakthrough cancer drug, she would lose her life. So worried was her uncle that he trained and employed Fuji and Miller to help guard her. A year later, we were able to trace the letters back to a disgruntled research doctor and he was caught and sent to jail. It's been quiet since then."  
  
Mitsui held his silence, shocked at the guard's disclosure.  
  
"She really doesn't need all of us anymore, but her uncle wasn't willing to live with the possibility that she could get hurt for what she knows. We could've quit, but we chose to stay and protect her."  
  
They observed the relief on the ladies' faces as the coach yelled out for a five-minute break.  
  
"Fuji and Miller's fathers, Sakai and myself have been with the Nakamichi family since she was eight. We've seen a happy but brief period of her childhood before she was hurled into a cold and hellish existence... it'll be ten years this November. It only got rougher for her."  
  
Laughter rang out from the team who now sat on the bench, Reiko sitting on the outer edge, smiling.  
  
Mitsui knew that Reiko had an inopportune childhood, she told him herself. But coming from someone else who had seen it, he came to grasp the fact that he didn't know the magnitude of her circumstances. Something in his chest weighed his insides down and trembled at the realization: there was so much more he didn't know. He heard Jackson inhale deeply as he continued.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono doesn't ever need to worry about money, you probably know that by now. She's an heiress to billions. She's frighteningly intelligent; she grew to understand how anything and everything functions at an early age. She was taught by some of the most brilliant minds on this earth, and her genius matched theirs after only a few years. She was constantly surrounded by adults, and her very formal and polite way of speaking comes from that. She doesn't know much about relationships outside her family. Having no permanent friends of her age, she relied solely on her family and mentors for love and companionship.... But then.... "  
  
Break time was over and the volleyball coach instructed the team to be in defense formation, Coach Sato hitting balls at them from the opposite side of the court. Mitsui and Jackson looked on as Sakai talked to the younger guards and motioned his head towards the coach. Fuji and Miller took their suit jackets off, unbuttoned their dress shirts and loosened their ties before walking towards the coach. Nanami and Kaname snickered as they watched Sayuri and Miki blush red to the roots of their hair. The younger guards helped Coach Sato hit balls at the team.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono's uncle is a busy but thoughtful man, he goes out of his way from his hospital rounds to check on her. He didn't want to repress her and let her do as she pleased. When she decided to come to Kanagawa to stay at her family's summer house, her uncle was happy and worried at the same time, but he was relieved when we decided to stay on and go with her."  
  
Taking his hands out of his pockets, Jackson leaned back on the balcony railing with his elbows.  
  
"I know you love her, Mitsui-san."  
  
Jackson's words made the shooting guard's head whip toward him, eyes wide as saucers. The bodyguard nearly chuckled.  
  
"We all know you do. It's pretty obvious," he said, glancing behind him at the ladies playing below. "I really don't know what it is about you, but she's happy, and I don't care about the details." Turning his gaze now to the top seats on the balcony, he continued.  
  
"But I give you fair warning now. To the love you can offer her, she is unfamiliar. Of the many things she's been taught, this is one lesson she hasn't learned or even experienced. No one ever taught her this. So if you think your affections are transparent to us, it might not be transparent to her. For her, you spending time with her, making her smile and holding her hand are simply things her family used to do with her, a familial act she has long since experienced. To any love extending beyond what she's felt before from her family, she is an innocent."  
  
Mitsui could feel his heart beat forcibly in his chest, a dull sensation of pain rippling inside him that gripped his very being. After Reiko told him of her childhood yesterday, he was dumbfounded. And now after what Jackson had revealed, the shooting guard was utterly stunned. Someone had been after her. So many people had brushed her off. But her uncle was kind to her... Where was her family? The people in the picture on her brother's dresser, the brother whose suit he wore to dinner, where were they?  
  
Straightening up, Jackson's hands retreated back into his pockets, still observing the people on the court.  
  
"I don't know how you did it, Mitsui-san, but you've succeeded in making the blue in her eyes come back from its sleeping depths. And I wish you luck in winning her love. However," the guard said in a low, almost guttural bass voice, "it took a long time for us to see her smile, and as much as you understand that, we would like that smile to stay. We've let you get this close to her because you seem to make her happy. We just hope you're as consistent with her as you are with your ballgame."  
  
"But," Jackson said as he took a step back from the railing, his eyes fixed on the court, his stare harsh and indomitable "if you ever mess up and break her heart, we will be very, very disappointed."  
  
His last words veiled an intimidating threat behind them, and with that the broad-shouldered bodyguard left and descended down the stairs. His gaze went back to his beautiful stretch partner on the court, gracefully landing after rendering another one of her jaw-dropping spikes. // The brilliant gleam in her cerulean eyes... the unwary way she holds my hand... the unflinching reaction she had when I touched her lips... // They all stemmed from her innocence. Mitsui placed his hands on the guardrail and leaned forward. Jackson's words only strengthened his resolve.  
  
He would do everything to make her happy. He would love her with all his heart and more. 


	13. Chapter 13

Days passed and he remained true to his resolve: Mitsui poured all his effort into spending time with Reiko. Each minute he spent talking to her, listening to her when she explained their lessons, the smiles she gave him, all of them were treasures only he could appreciate. Nearly everyone on Coach Sato's team and the basketball team noticed how attached Mitsui was to her, and before each practice they could be seen together stretching in one corner of the gym, a routine silently encouraged by Coach Miwa and Coach Sato. They saw it as a ritual for good luck.  
  
Mitsui didn't forget Fuji and Miller's little wager, and he made sure that every ball passed to him would be a sure three-point shot. He lived up to his consistency, and the shooting guard made the local newspapers as the only basketball player in the district to score 36 points in a game. Reiko's younger guards had a much greater respect for him as a player, and now they were betting on which professional team would offer him a contract first.  
  
Mitsui's beautiful stretch partner made waves as well. Reiko led Coach Sato's team into 8 straight victories, and the collegiate volleyball world was astounded by her abilities. Coach Sato and his team appeared on the cover of Nihon Volleyball, and requests for interviews and photo shoots flooded the overwhelmed coach's office. At one point he had to cover the little windows of the gym doors and lock them with the help of Reiko's bodyguards to keep the eager paparazzi outside, waiting for a photo-op. They were getting too distracting. Then again, his team was composed of attractive girls, and that was one of the main reasons why the seats were so packed on game days, even when they're in the opponents' home turf. He would inwardly sigh at that thought. He felt like a father, proud that his little angels were getting so much better at their game, protective when guys got too friendly with them. This would always make his wife laugh whenever she went to see their games.  
  
Weeks passed and the month of November was ending. Akagi and Mitsui couldn't believe how well they did on their midterms, and all the credit went to Reiko who humbly refused to be recognized as the only person on this earth who could possibly make physics and math fun. They all went to the old man's bakery across the main street and toasted their Sunday Mornings to Reiko. Even the bodyguards joined in the humble merriment. A look at Reiko's cheerful blue eyes uncovered a stronger hope within them for happier memories to come. Being closer to their age, Fuji and Miller have become a lot more easygoing around Mitsui and his basketball team, not to mention Reiko's teammates. And since Mitsui followed Reiko like her very shadow, Akagi, Miyagi and the rest have gotten used to the guards being around them during games and practices.  
  
It was no secret to Akagi and Miyagi that the shooting guard was in love. They knew it from the very beginning. Even Ayako heard from the girls on the team that Mitsui was always staring at Reiko like a sunflower to the sun. And yet, there was something that held him back, like he was restraining himself. Whenever they heard Mitsui speak to her his voice was always tender, and hers calm and gentle. There were even times when Akagi would catch his friend reach out for Reiko whenever her back was facing him, wanting to embrace her, but resignedly withdrawing his hand and returning Reiko's gaze with a pained but happy look, if one could mix the two. The two players spoke of it once and decided that if there was something that troubled the shooting guard, it would affect his level of play. So far, so good. Until then, no questions.  
  
  
  
  
  
Jackson opened the newspaper at the breakfast table and frowned at the sports section. In big conspicuous bold letters, "Nakamichi Reiko: Watching Volleyball is Fun Again". A picture showed Reiko in mid-air about to hit a volleyball, the small smile on her lips caught in the freeze frame. He tossed the paper to Sakai who drank his coffee as he listened to the morning news.  
  
"I've got a bad feeling about this, Sakai," he mumbled, tapping the side of his coffee mug.  
  
"I guess we just have to be ready for anything," Sakai said, suddenly grabbing the remote control and turning up the volume for the younger guards in the kitchen to hear.  
  
"College basketball season is headed to a surprisingly exciting climax, with Miwa and his team against the number one ranked Sendai Tigers. It's been four years since Miwa led his team to a championship game, and perhaps this year it's not so surprising since he has three outstanding players trained in Coach Anzai's basketball breeding ground, Shohoku High School. What's surprising is that the volleyball team from the same college is the exact mirrored replica of success as Miwa and his boys. Practically out of nowhere, Nakamichi Reiko appeared into the collegiate scene and stole the hearts of the spectators with gravity-defying vertical jumps and a near-perfect kill record." A picture of Reiko showed on the screen, and in it her eyes shone a cool sparkling blue.  
  
All four bodyguards fixed their eyes at the television, a small smile creeping across their lips. She had come a long way, even though she had it all along.  
  
"I guess letting Mitsui hang around her was a good idea after all," Jackson said, munching on an apple.  
  
The rest of the guards chuckled. "You seem to have a nose for these kinds of guys, Jackson," Sakai said, turning the television off.  
  
"It's good to see Nakamichi-dono happy again," muttered Miller, taking a seat next to Fuji.  
  
"Amen to that," piped Fuji, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.  
  
"Men, I know everything's been stable and quiet, but we can't let our guard down. I don't know, something in my gut tells me we need to be on our toes come two weeks from now."  
  
Miller shoved a piece of toast in his mouth. "Then I'd better do a quick inventory on our equipment. Your gut's pretty good at these things."  
  
"Does the house have an immersion chamber?"  
  
"I was told that each of their houses had one. Check the basement."  
  
"Restock the first aid kit with new bandages and gauze. Even if she does run like a well-oiled machine, make sure there's a fresh vial of epinephrine in the kit that her uncle sent for emergency. I'll go see her right now and check on her medicine cabinet."  
  
The four guards dispersed, Fuji going to the basement, Sakai going to the vehicle, Miller to the den of the servants' house and Jackson to the Nakamichi house.  
  
  
  
  
  
Akagi and Mitsui made room for Reiko so she could get into the seat they saved for her. Unlike before, they looked forward coming to classes now, and no matter how difficult the lecture seemed, Reiko could untangle things in less than thirty minutes. Mitsui found it funny that even now as the semester was ending, she still did not take any notes and yet was on top of everything. Even on the shooting guard's list of priorities. Word got out that Reiko was helping the two basketball players with their studies, and soon every weekday morning their classmates begged if they could sit in with them to try to sort through the mathematical mess their professor left in their minds. Having no objections, she and the rest of the class thronged the bakery across the street, listening intently to Reiko's lucid explanations and leaving with a smile and a sense of enlightenment. The old proprietor of the bakery could only be happy; Reiko unknowingly brought business by the numbers. She made the bakery a popular study hangout.  
  
The geeky professor came into the lecture hall with a stack of papers, the students suspecting them to be homework. Whispers were exchanged in the room. Standing behind the wooden podium, the professor spoke.  
  
"All right, people. As you all know, finals are fast approaching, and I have a little proposition for you all. Each packet I'm handing out today has several pages of equations. I'm giving you three options. You can either take the final exam in three weeks, or fill out this packet with correct answers as your final exam." He turned around and began writing across the blackboard.  
  
"Sir, you mentioned three options," a student said.  
  
"Patience, please," he squawked as he finished drawing the string of equations on the board. He turned around once more.  
  
"This, ladies and gentlemen," he said as he pointed to the board, "is your third option. I am surprised at the grades I've been seeing in this class, and I know one person in this crowd is the mastermind helping you all."  
  
Mitsui narrowed his eyes at the professor. His tone was accusing, almost angry that no one was doing badly in his class.  
  
"And since you guys appear to be smart according to my grade book, I am offering this challenge to the brightest mind in this class, whoever you are," he sneered, the corner of his eye catching Reiko sitting between the two tall athletes. Mitsui saw this and he reflexively gripped his pencil.  
  
"I will leave these equations up here for you to ponder on. If someone in this class can come forward and solve this, not only will that person receive an A for this course, but so will the rest of the class. All parts of the equations or nothing."  
  
The lecture hall was abuzz with murmurs.  
  
"I know that most of you are engineering majors in here and that doing well in my class makes you a candidate for the most sought-after internships in this school's engineering department. This may very well be your ticket to the big leagues of the engineering world. Having said that, you have two weeks to decide whether one of you will be smart enough to come forward and write the answer on the board. I suggest covering your bases by either doing the packet or studying for the final, in case none of you is brave enough to be the hero of this class. Or should I say heroine, to be more on the politically correct side," the reedy professor uttered with a sardonic tone.  
  
As the man with coke bottle glasses left, the students gathered around the stack of papers on the side table by the podium. Akagi volunteered to get three for all of them. Eyeing the equations once more on the board, Reiko bit her lip as she looked at the scribbled numbers in sequence. There was something vaguely familiar with the numbers written on the board, like a problem she had seen long ago...  
  
"Reiko-san, if you stare at it any harder, you'll crack the board," teased the shooting guard beside him.  
  
She withdrew from her thoughts and smiled back at Mitsui. They met up with the guards and went outside the lecture hall. When they stepped out, the rest of the class was waiting for them.  
  
"Reiko-san, we all know you can solve those equations no problem," said one student, his tone hopeful.  
  
"Yeah, put that pencil neck in his place!" cheered another. Laughter filled the hallway.  
  
Reiko looked demurely on the tiled floor. "I'm afraid I'm being a bad student. I didn't even copy the equations down."  
  
Arms from the crowd extended out to her, pieces of paper with the equations written down in their hands. The bodyguards stifled a laugh at her surprised face.  
  
"I'll give it a try," she quietly said, taking one of the sheets from a delighted classmate.  
  
Sighs of relief escaped the throats of her classmates. "God, Reiko- san, you're an angel sent from above!"  
  
"You're a saint!"  
  
"You're too gorgeous to be in our class!"  
  
"Marry me!"  
  
Before she could figure out who said the last two sentences, the whole class had already walked away, their cheery voices resonating in the hallway as they exited the building. She felt Mitsui inch closer to her.  
  
  
  
  
  
When asked if she would like to see the children at the day care center again, Reiko gladly accompanied the shooting guard. As predicted the children were ecstatic to see them, and they flocked to Reiko like lost sheep to Little Bo Peep. Mitsui's puppet show was a hit, and this time Reiko joined the ranks of day care stardom by manning another puppet that held the children's attention to the very end. They recounted the story of the swan princess, and even the teachers were entranced with the storytelling. Jackson became the resident couch for the day; a handful of children crowded around and leaned against him as they watched on. They quietly left and said their goodbyes when all the children were sound asleep for their naps, the teachers gratefully waving at them for passing the time and calming the children down.  
  
They piled into the black Suburban and Fuji couldn't help but glance at Jackson from the rear view mirror. As the car halted at the intersection, Fuji no longer held back and turned around from the driver's seat.  
  
"Jackson, what's that?" he asked, pointing to the older guard's shoulder.  
  
"What's what?"  
  
Reiko looked at Jackson and smiled. The guard's button-up shirt had patches of wetness around both shoulders that were drying around the edges. She recalled that Jackson held two of the children who fell asleep on him after the puppet show, and they left their sleepy wet mark on his shoulders.  
  
"I think the kids drooled on me," mumbled Jackson, trying to hide the embarrassment in his voice.  
  
"They must really like you to fall asleep on you," said Mitsui with an amused grin.  
  
"I don't know why the same kids come to me all the time. Why don't they go bother you, Sakai?" he irritatingly asked.  
  
"There's no use trying to deny you like the little ones, Jackson. I saw you in there today," cajoled Miller as he flipped the visor above his seat. "Since when did you become a gentle giant?"  
  
Everyone laughed at the crimson-faced guard, his lips half pouting and yet smiling. Jackson glanced at Reiko who sat next to her and caught the childish grin on her pretty face. It softened him more, forcing him to sigh before lamely telling Sakai to stop laughing at him.  
  
  
  
  
  
Practice that afternoon was grueling for the basketball team. With the competition getting harder and tougher, Coach Miwa drilled his team on offense and defense to near exhaustion. When they were dismissed for the day, the players had to drag themselves to the locker room.  
  
Mitsui plopped himself on the bench in front of his locker, his hair and practice clothes drenched in sweat. He looked around him and found his teammates in the same condition. Miyagi sat on the bench facing away from his locker, just staring into space, and Akagi rested his elbows on his thick thighs as he sat next to a worn-out Keiichi. The rest of their teammates groaned as they sluggishly dragged themselves to the showers.  
  
Akagi took his practice jersey off. "Today's practice had to be the most tiring yet."  
  
"No shit," mumbled Keiichi, untying his shoes. "Hey, you okay there, Miyagi?"  
  
It took a second before the point guard could blink and reply. "Yeah, man. I'm just a little tired."  
  
"I think everyone is," muttered Mitsui, wiping the sweat below his chin with the back of his hand.  
  
"And what sucks is that I'm going to be even more tired after I try to solve some of those math problems for the final," Akagi groused as he closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Mitsui, do you think Reiko-san can really save our whole class from having to take the final exam?"  
  
Keiichi and Miyagi looked at Mitsui with wide eyes.  
  
"What's this about?"  
  
Mitsui smiled and closed his eyes as he slouched against his locker. "Our clumsy professor issued us a little challenge today. If anybody in class can solve the five problems he wrote on the board correctly, the whole class gets an 'A'."  
  
"Are you serious?" piped Keiichi.  
  
"Is Reiko-san really that smart?" Miyagi asked, leaning forward.  
  
The shooting guard glanced at Akagi and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I'd say so."  
  
"Oh, I get it. You like her 'cause of her brains," taunted Keiichi as he tapped on his temple twice.  
  
"She's pretty good-looking, too, don't forget that," Akagi said gruffly, reaching for the bath towel in his locker.  
  
"Man, quit talking like parlor ladies," Mitsui said in exasperation as he rolled his eyes. // There's so much more to her than that. // He hastily took his jersey off, slipped out of his shoes and socks and slung his towel over his shoulder.  
  
He trudged to one of the shower stalls, turned on the shower and let the hot water wash away his exhaustion. The soothing hot water pelting against his skin, he watched the steam rise as he scrubbed himself down with soap and a washcloth. He closed his eyes and instantly Reiko's face appeared in his mind's eye, those same innocent azure eyes looking back at him. There were plenty of occasions when he so badly wanted to reach for her, to scoop her up and lock her into his embrace, but he held back. What Jackson told him on the balcony of the annex gym sparked a struggle within him. As much as he wanted to tell her how he felt, how he longed to press his lips against her warm rosy ones, he knew it would be much too soon to do so. She needed to learn what it was he felt, to feel it and understand. He knew Reiko was a quick learner, but this was something she couldn't glean from a book. The love he had for her was similar yet so different from what she has experienced. He didn't know how else to tell her how he felt short of just flat out saying it. He was full of trepidation. Never before did the inclination to convey his feelings been so urgent; he never felt this way before with any woman. He took some comfort in her trust, the times when the blue in her eyes surfaced whenever he made her laugh, and the way she smiled differently at him from all the rest. And the fact that her four muscled men allowed him to hang around her made him all the more grateful to the good Lord upstairs. But tied to that trust was the pressure.... and it wasn't so much from Jackson and the others, but from himself. He needed to watch his every more, he didn't want to make a mistake because he knew this was new to her and all too important to him. He could withstand this pressure; he would cultivate patience like a redwood. What he feared most, what he pushed away from his thoughts was the very possibility of Reiko not realizing his love for her beyond the boundaries of friendship. He admitted that he loved every aspect of her, including the innocence that surfaced with the cerulean hue she possessed in her eyes. And yet, he was afraid that this same innocence might someday break him. He always tried to take matters into in his own hands if he knew he could do something about it. But with this, he felt helpless and afraid. He let the water pelt against his face as he looked up with his eyes still closed, willing the query in his head to wash off and down the drain.  
  
// Will she learn to love me? //  
  
Reiko had now taken residence in the deepest depths of his heart.  
  
She ruled him and she didn't even know.  
  
  
  
Fuji and Miller jumped in unison as Reiko jumped and hit the volleyball into their blocking arms. The ball broke through the block, the impact was softened and Coach Sato dug the ball to Sakai who set the ball to Jackson. The whole afternoon had been like this; the team did nothing but scrimmage against Coach Sato and the guards, and it went well into the evening. They made sure no snooping photographers could see them through the double door windows of the annex gym, but the sage coach knew to give a key for the side door to the one person who always stopped by to see his most prized player.  
  
Mitsui opened the side door silently and found the ladies in the middle of a game. Nanami jumped up to set the ball, with Yuki and Sayuri jumping as they both approached her. She gave a quick set behind her and Sayuri hit the ball past Jackson's thick arms. The ladies cheered at the point scored, and they met in the middle of the court for high fives. The shooting guard smiled at the cohesiveness of the team, and from their beaming faces he knew that they really enjoyed playing with each other. His eyes drifted over to Reiko who slowly walked away from the brief huddle, smiling as she wiped her chin with her sleeve. As if she could feel him watching her, she looked to his direction and she smiled from ear to ear.  
  
He sighed. // God, I love that smile... //  
  
"All right, two-minute water break!" yelled Coach Sato, briefly nodding at Mitsui as he walked off the court.  
  
Both teams on the court dispersed to the benches by the sidelines, and the ladies thirstily gulped down the cool water from their water bottles. Coach Sato hung around the bodyguards who were getting a good workout from scrimmaging. They acknowledged Mitsui who stood in the corner with a nod and returned to chatting with the happy coach. Everyone was abuzz with excitement in the newspapers and television about the upcoming games that Coach Sato and his team would play. The guards laughed when the comical coach described his team as 'the Cinderella team of all Japan'.  
  
Reiko was about to walk over to the waiting shooting guard when Nanami pulled her gently aside, curiosity written all over her face.  
  
"Reiko-chan," she whispered as she eyed the shooting guard, "I really envy you."  
  
She blinked at the statement. "Why?"  
  
"Because you've got a really sweet boyfriend."  
  
"Boyfriend?"  
  
"Yeah. You know, Mitsui-san."  
  
"Oh." Reiko looked down on the wooden floor for a second. "You're referring to Mitsui-san that way because he's a boy and a friend of mine, right?"  
  
The setter widened her eyes at the interpretation. "I was thinking more along the lines of you and him seeing each other on a regular basis. You know, like dating."  
  
Reiko angled her head at her teammate. "Dating?"  
  
"Yeah, dating..." Reiko stared at Nanami with a look of confusion on her face. "Wait a minute, are you telling me you don't know what dating is?"  
  
"I know the concept, though I've never experienced it before."  
  
Nanami was absolutely bowled over. Here before her stood the prettiest girl on the team, with so many male fans in the audience at every home and away game, and she had never once dated?! The idea was nothing short of ludicrous. Every person on the team, even their goofy coach, knew that Mitsui was head over heels for Reiko, and they all assumed that they were dating since they were together so much. That was their understanding, at least. And with such a pretty face and pleasing disposition, she thought that Reiko had a mile long line of guys waiting to date her. So what was the deal between her and the shooting guard?  
  
"All right, it's been more than two minutes already, ladies. Game on!" shouted their eager coach, almost skipping back onto the court.  
  
Nanami quickly took Reiko's hand and patted it twice before letting go. "You and I need to talk girl business after practice. All right?"  
  
She didn't understand what business she had to talk about girls, but she agreed to her setter's request, thinking that she referred to the rest of the girls on the team. Reiko glanced at her stretch partner once more who never failed to throw her a grin. Upon stepping onto the court, she ran the sleeve of her shirt over her cheeks. She felt somewhat warmer.  
  
They played for a half an hour more before Coach Sato realized how late it was. Ten past eight. He called the team to a huddle and dismissed the ladies, a chorus of gratitude for the guards' participation escaping their throats as they walked to the locker room. Reiko trailed behind and stole another glance at her stretch partner who now spoke to the bodyguards sitting on the bench.  
  
In the locker room, Miki and Sayuri led the chatter as the girls undressed and grabbed their towels and toiletries.  
  
"Oh my gosh, Fuji-san is soooo cute!" Sayuri sighed as she shampooed her hair. "I nearly fainted when he complimented me on my sets!"  
  
The girls in the adjacent stalls giggled at her admission.  
  
"I get weak just looking at Miller-san all worked up and sweaty," grumbled Miki, scrubbing herself down.  
  
Nanami just rolled her eyes and laughed.  
  
Reiko was the last to finish showering, and most of the girls had filtered out of the locker room by the time she got to her locker. After getting dressed, she wrung her hair of excess water and toweled it before blow drying it. Nanami was already dressed, also drying her hair.  
  
"Reiko-chan, could you look behind us if anyone else is here?" she asked with a loud voice, trying to hear herself speak above the deafening whir of the hairdryer.  
  
She did as requested. Seeing no one else, she returned to her locker and sat next to the setter who brushed her hair.  
  
"What is it you wish to discuss, Nanami-san?" she asked after shutting the blow dryer off.  
  
The setter laughed. "You're so polite, Reiko-chan, you make me want to curtsy." Nanami handed her the brush. "Would you brush my hair for me?"  
  
Reiko smiled. "Sure."  
  
Nanami found a spot in front of the full length mirror by the showers and dusted it before sitting down. Reiko sat behind her and began to brush her hair lock by lock.  
  
"You know, I was wondering why you took forever to join our team. For the longest time, Sato-sensei griped about this 'phenom' that would bring us to the highest bracket in our division," she said with an exaggerated sigh. Her teammate smiled faintly at her words. "I thought you would be the snobby type, you know."  
  
Reiko widened her eyes in subtle shock.  
  
"But when the girls and I met you for the first time, you were so nice, you blew us all away. And I was right, you are too good for us, but I admire the way you keep humble and play it low-key, even though everyone thinks the world of you. You seem so perfect and innocent... but I've got a feeling you think you don't belong."  
  
Reiko stopped midway through a brush stroke. Nanami took notice and leaned to her left to see Reiko's face looking down in the mirror. "I'm sorry, I guess I struck a nerve."  
  
She shook her head slowly. "Please, don't be. It's just... you're quite observant."  
  
Nanami shrugged. "So I guess I'm right then. But I don't want to push issues around. I just want you to understand something."  
  
Reiko didn't know what to expect and she steeled herself as Nanami spoke.  
  
"I notice that you sometimes stare out into space on the court, like you're all alone in this world, physically there but mentally far away. Now, I don't have to know your situation for my gut to tell me to care, but I just want you to know that the rest of the team and I are more than just your teammates. You can count on us for anything on and off the court because we're also your friends, if you'd let us be just that. You don't have to spill your guts or anything like that. I speak for the team when I say we're kind of goofy, with Miki and Sayuri drooling over your bodyguards. But we're more than that. Ever since all of us played for this school, we clung together like grapes on a vine. I've had some pretty rough times before and all the girls gave me a shoulder to lean on and cheered me up. You know, girls in general can be pretty evil to each other, but our teammates are surprisingly nice, and I can really attest to that. I'm not saying we're total angels. We've played some pretty funny tricks on Sato-sensei before that angered him to run us to exhaustion, but we're an all-around good bunch. I want you to know that we're here for you if you ever need somebody to lean on, through the good and the bad," she ended, her soothing voice echoing sweetly in Reiko's ears. Her soft voice permeated through her, her words flooding her with the gravity of their meaning and kindling warmth inside her like that of a sister's comforting embrace.  
  
Nanami turned about to face Reiko, still holding the hairbrush in her clutch. She put a smile on her face. "I can always put what I said on writing," her eyes twinkled as she spoke. "But just remember what I've said whenever you feel like no one else is there. You've helped all of us unlock our true potential as a team. I hope we can do the same for you as your friends."  
  
Reiko could say nothing. She felt like laughing and crying. It was the first time in a long time that anyone other than Mitsui told her she was welcomed and that she belonged, with no strings attached. Her heart was filled to overflowing; this was the very friendship that her stretch partner had offered her, only it came from Nanami and her teammates this time. Relief and happiness, so much she felt that she lost control of speaking. She silently watched with wide eyes as the setter squeezed both her hands reassuringly and grinned before taking the hairbrush back.  
  
"I don't think you like brushing my hair, Reiko-chan," Nanami said as she playfully pouted, waving the brush in the air like a magic wand.  
  
Reiko unexpectedly found her voice and let a laugh loose. "Please pardon me, Nanami-san. I'm quite slow to take these matters in."  
  
"I'm just joshing with you. But here, you can redeem yourself," the setter handed the brush back to Reiko. Taking the brush with a shy giggle, she ran the brush through Nanami's hair once more.  
  
"So, now that that's cleared, let's talk about something else," Nanami said, the playful tone in her voice resurfacing. "Why hasn't my pretty pretty teammate dated when there's plenty of perfectly good guys out there, especially one who particularly stands out and is almost always with you?"  
  
After a pause, Reiko replied, "Are you referring to Mitsui-san?"  
  
"Bingo. So what do you think of Mi-chan?  
  
"He's been a very good friend to me, my very first friend here in Kanagawa," she said, brushing the ends of Nanami's hair.  
  
"Have you thought of what he thinks about you?"  
  
Reiko looked up as she thought. "I suppose he thinks I'm polite as well."  
  
Nanami laughed. "But everybody thinks that of you." She took a small lock of hair and began braiding. "The reason I'm asking is because I don't think you see what I see."  
  
Reiko gave her a puzzled look as Nanami turned around once more. She thanked her for brushing her hair as she stood up. The setter smirked at her teammate's quizzical face.  
  
"You're so cute, Reiko-chan. How did you get to be so innocent?"  
  
Reiko shrugged reluctantly. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with these kinds of situations."  
  
"Didn't you have anybody to chat with about these things?"  
  
Reiko thought back to all the times she spent with her mentors and old professors. She couldn't recall a single moment with them talking about anything other than academic matters. Perhaps a comment here and there about her keen perception, but she obviously thought of herself naïve to what Nanami spoke of. She couldn't remember discussing social situations with them at the moment. When she was quite young, she would seldom hear her sister say that she would one day draw a lot of attention and 'break a lot of hearts'. At the time, she thought her sister meant that in the future she might hurt people's hearts physically, and because of this she spent a great deal of time with her Uncle Tak reviewing the cardiovascular system. She sadly smiled at the recollection. It was one of the few times she could remember her sister telling her of such things.  
  
"I'm afraid not, Nanami-san."  
  
"Hmm.... I thought you and Michan were a couple."  
  
"How is that?" Reiko asked, sitting back on the bench in front of her locker.  
  
"Because you're the only one Michan acts tenderly towards everytime he sees you."  
  
Reiko blinked. "Do you mean he's not nice to anyone else?"  
  
The setter laughed once more. To someone who had never dated before, she had a lot of explaining to do. How does one explain feelings? She sighed. It was going to be a long night. "No, no, it's not that at all." Nanami glanced at her watch. "Listen, do you have some time to spare?"  
  
"I believe Mitsui-san wanted to say something to me earlier."  
  
"I'm sure he's still outside waiting for you. Are you going to study together tonight?  
  
"Perhaps. I'm not sure if he and Akagi-san want to start on math homework this evening."  
  
Nanami quickly turned her head at Reiko. "Akagi-kun?"  
  
"Yes. He asked if he could sit in with us," she replied,  
  
The setter averted her gaze to the fresh pair of socks in her hand, running her thumb over the cottony surface. "I hear you've been a big help to them."  
  
Reiko coyly looked down the floor. "Mitsui-san mentioned before that you and Akagi-san have the same organic chemistry class. Do you study with him as well?"  
  
"N-no, not really..." she stammered. "I mean, he's really smart, I don't think he needs my help. I'm kind of lost in that class myself."  
  
Reiko smiled. "Do you need help?"  
  
"Yeah," Nanami sighed. "But it's hard to find patient tutors these days. I'm like concrete to the info in that class, it just doesn't seep in."  
  
"I think I'm patient enough," her teammate answered as she packed her belongings into her gym bag.  
  
Nanami's eyes widened. "Are you telling me you can help me with organic chemistry?"  
  
"I should remember enough of it to help you."  
  
The setter got ecstatic. "Really? I mean, you're really serious?"  
  
Reiko nodded as she placed two shiny clips in her hair. She grinned at her setter's excited face.  
  
"This is too awesome! I've been struggling in that awful class since the beginning of the semester!" Nanami exclaimed as she grabbed Reiko's hands, jumping up and down. "Akagi-kun told me you're really smart, now I really have a chance to salvage my grade!" The setter gathered her things and slung the strap of her gym bag over her shoulder. "When can we start?"  
  
"It only takes Akagi-san and Mitsui-san an hour to finish ten long equations, and they usually do not want to solve any more than that in one sitting. If you would like, I can help you after I finish helping them."  
  
Nanami quickly agreed. "Come on, then. I bet Michan's waiting for you," she chimed with a wink.  
  
As Reiko shut her locker, she hesitated. "Nanami-san?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I was wondering.... if I could learn a few things from you as well."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like the 'things' you see which you say I do not."  
  
The setter was tickled. "If that's the case, honey, Nanami-chan will tell you ALL."  
  
They walked out of the locker room giggling, making the men waiting by the benches turn their heads at their laughter. They all courteously acknowledged Nanami, and she noticed the sparkle in Mitsui's eye upon seeing her teammate. She inwardly chuckled. It was quite obvious and yet Reiko couldn't see. She drew small talk with the guards to let Reiko discuss plans with her stretch partner.  
  
"Hello, Mitsui-san. I'm sorry to keep you waiting."  
  
"Oh no, don't be. I just wanted to tell you that I don't think I can study with you tonight. I promised my Dad I'd help clean the garage out. Akagi's going to be helping me out with some heavy junk, and I'm afraid it's going to take a while."  
  
"That's quite all right. I offered to help Nanami-san with her schoolwork in organic chemistry."  
  
"Really? Then I guess I should tell Akagi-san to join you two instead. He's not too happy in that class right now. I'm sure he'd appreciate the help."  
  
"That would be fine, I'm sure Nanami-san would like his company."  
  
The shooting guard arched a brow as he grinned in mischief. "Oh?"  
  
His stretch partner tilted her head slightly to the side as she smiled questioningly, wondering why he suddenly had an impish look about him.  
  
"I heard my name. So what's the gossip now?" the setter's voice cut in, making the two turn their heads at her.  
  
"I just told Mitsui-san about our plans tonight, and Akagi-san might be joining us as well. Mitsui-san will be helping his father at home this evening."  
  
"Oh... With what?"  
  
"Just clearing out a bunch of old boxes and other junk. No big deal."  
  
A mischievous grin crept across the setter's face as she teasingly wrapped her arm around in mock possessiveness for the shooting guard to see. "I hope you don't mind me stealing Reiko-chan away from you tonight," she said, enjoying the envious glare that Mitsui shot her.  
  
"Would you like to meet tomorrow morning instead?" Reiko offered.  
  
Much to his consolation, Mitsui was quietly delighted and eagerly agreed. "At the bakery like always?"  
  
His stretch partner nodded. Nanami impishly grinned at the shooting guard, noting the look of triumph in his face as he looked back at her. Mitsui was hopelessly magnetized to Reiko and she didn't know it. It must be frustrating. Nanami sighed in resignation.  
  
"We'll be at my house. Would that be all right, Reiko-chan?"  
  
"Indeed."  
  
And so they each took their leave, Mitsui leaving through the side door and the two teammates flanked at each side by the guards as they walked through the double doors of the annex gym.  
  
"Son, be careful, I don't want you hurting your back," Mr. Mitsui said as he watched his son lift a box from an overhead shelf.  
  
"Pops, this wouldn't so hard if you and Mom hadn't been pack rats," his son said as he lowered the heavy box onto his father's workbench. "What's in here, anyway?"  
  
"Your mother's old magazines and newspapers. She doesn't even know why she kept them, but she made me keep them anyway. Ah, why am I such a pushover at times?"  
  
The shooting guard laughed at his father. His mother was right: men may look and act hard as rocks, but they've got soft spots all over them. He took two more down from the shelf, and Mr. Mitsui carted the rest off in a little wagon that his son used to play with. He looked up to see a box remaining at the end of the shelf, and he slid it over before bringing it down. As he did, a newspaper fell out. Putting the box on the ground, he picked it up and blew the dust from the front page.  
  
He froze in place as his eyes widened, gazing at a ghastly picture of a plane in flames in a large body of water, with words underneath it in big bold print.  
  
"Plane Crash Off Coast of New York: 24 Survive"  
  
Below the headline was a picture of a family whose faces were so frighteningly familiar to the shooting guard. He gripped the sides of the old newspaper as he read below the photograph, his heart stopping at the words.  
  
"Petroleum Magnate Nakamichi and Family Die In Tragic Plane Crash." 


	14. Chapter 14

Mitsui stumbled backwards in shock, the oxidized paper in his hands ruffled at the edges from his grip.  
  
He couldn't believe it.  
  
He eyed the article slowly, waves of disbelief crashing inside him, making him tremble whenever he came across the Nakamichi name. He held his breath as he read silently.  
  
"The Nakamichis are survived by the youngest daughter, Reiko Nakamichi, currently attending the Julliard School."  
  
Below the article was a picture of a recognizably younger, smiling Reiko, a face that at the time was unaware of the tragedy described.  
  
The shooting guard's father walked back into the garage and hung the wagon back on the wall. He turned around to see his son's ashen visage.  
  
"What's the matter? You look like you've just seen a ghost," he joked.  
  
The shooting guard folded the newspaper, stared blankly at the ground before somberly looking at his father.  
  
"I-if you don't mind, Pops, I'll be in my room." He started for the door, clutching the paper in his white-knuckled fist.  
  
Mr. Mitsui's brow furrowed with concern. "Son, are you all right?"  
  
His son stopped in his tracks. "I . I just need to think right now."  
  
  
  
Akagi and Nanami were curiously huddled around Reiko who drew carbon rings and reactions on paper. The bodyguards were all in the living room, welcomed by Nanami's cousin and aunt in light conversation. Jackson occasionally glanced at the studying trio by the dining table and grinned. Reiko was like a shepherdess to baffled and lost flocks of students. Ever since she met Mitsui, he gradually noticed the occasional smiles on her face lasting longer and increasing in frequency. He was glad she made this move to Japan.  
  
On the sofa sat Miller and Fuji who drank tea with Yuriko and Sakai was sampling some of the cake that Nanami's aunt Ayumi made. Jackson's lips curved into a small grin at the recollection of meeting his fellow guards for the first time. Sakai was close to his age, a former consultant for a defense contractor. Miller and Fuji were only boys then when Sakai and Jackson worked with their fathers. The two younger guards attended the same college in California, Miller finished with a computer science and linguistics degree and Fuji graduated with honors in mechanical engineering. Both were very bright. Jackson remembered how proud their fathers were of them, and they never failed to mention them at least once a day. The hulking guard nearly laughed out loud. They were so small and young back then; he used to grab them by the arm and leg and swing them around in the air. Now, they can more likely swing him around, they had grown tall and strong.  
  
"Would you like a piece of cake, Jackson-san?" a sweet voice asked.  
  
The brawny bodyguard turned to see Nanami's aunt before him with a plate of cake in her hand.  
  
"Thank you, Ayumi-san," he awkwardly replied.  
  
The affable woman snuck a peek at the three by the dinner table. "Wow, they're really into it," she whispered.  
  
Jackson smirked. "Yeah, Nakamichi-dono has a knack for explaining things."  
  
"She must be very intelligent. And she's very beautiful," Ayumi smiled.  
  
"You're right on both accounts," he said before placing a piece of cake in his mouth.  
  
"Do you like this town so far, Jackson-san?"  
  
Jackson nodded as he forked another piece in his mouth. After swallowing, he said, "Ayumi-san, this is really good. What kind of cake is this?"  
  
"It's just your run-of-the-mill chocolate cake. Nanami-chan likes to call it 'Death by Chocolate'. I'm glad you like it," she said with a smile.  
  
Jackson reddened at cheerful disposition. To divert his attention, he looked behind him to see all the guards pleasantly occupied in conversation with Nanami's cousin. He noticed she looked about the same age as Ayumi.  
  
"Ayumi-san, how old is Yuriko-san?" the guard asked.  
  
"She's only two years younger than me." She giggled at Jackson's reaction. "I know, I'm supposed to be older since I'm their aunt. But I'm the youngest of eight children, and my oldest sister is Nanami-chan's mother. Yuriko-chan is the second oldest sister's daughter, and she's been my playmate ever since we were kids. My sister and brother-in-law are on their second honeymoon. I get to baby-sit for the time being."  
  
"Wow, eight children..." Jackson trailed.  
  
"I know, that's crazy, huh? I keep thinking my parents didn't have television back then. That's why they have so many kids."  
  
Jackson caught the grin on her face and laughed. She's got a good sense of humor.  
  
At the dining table, Reiko looked over the sheets of paper Akagi and Nanami wrote on. The hopeful look in their eyes remained plastered on Reiko until they saw her smile.  
  
"You two are quick to pick this up. All your answers are correct."  
  
"Yes!" they exclaimed, Akagi and Nanami giving each other high fives. Nanami sunk contentedly in her chair.  
  
"Good grief, I shock even myself.... I never knew I'd be able to understand this. Reiko-chan, I owe you big time."  
  
"Same here, Reiko-san. I feel kind of bad ditching Mitsui for this, but he told me I'd really regret it if I didn't come. I think he's right."  
  
"It was kind of him to let you know about tonight."  
  
"He's kind in a lot of ways," Akagi said with a smirk. Knowing his teammate was crazy about his tutor, Akagi felt like the shooting guard could use some help in getting her to think of the his feelings. The setter caught on.  
  
"He's right, you know," Nanami winked. She looked at the time and let out a small gasp. "Oh, it's already eleven? Reiko-chan, I'm sorry for keeping you here so late."  
  
Reiko shook her head softly and said she didn't mind. She excused herself for taking too long to explain things and thanked both of them for being so patient. Akagi and Nanami looked at each other, faces puzzled. They were the ones who needed to thank her for being patient.  
  
Reiko, Akagi and the guards piled by the front door and humbly gave their thanks to Nanami and her relatives for having them over. As they left, Akagi trailed behind the guards and stopped before the door to look back at Nanami.  
  
"Thanks again, Nanami-chan. I'll see you in class tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah," she answered, doing her best to mask the quiver in her voice.  
  
The tall center took one last look at her before saying goodbye. As he walked through the front door, he found himself smiling at the recent memory of the setter's smiling face.  
  
  
  
  
  
Stunned.  
  
Shaken.  
  
As he ascended the stairs, Mitsui felt like every step was taken in slow motion. He was numb inside, and as he absentmindedly sat down on his bed, he held the paper up again to read the harsh headline that glared before him.  
  
"Petroleum Magnate Nakamichi and Family Die In Tragic Plane Crash."  
  
He closed his eyes and tried to calm the clash of emotions inside him. He stilled himself as he thought back to past conversations with his stretch partner, trying to recall what she had told him before. A while back he wondered where the rest of her family was, and Reiko and Jackson had never given him a straight answer. A few seconds passed, and events flashed in his mind's eye all too vividly as he searched his mind for answers; he could even hear the voices in his head. He remembered that early evening when Reiko was in her brother's closet, finding him a suit to wear. He remembered asking where her brother was. 'He's not here,' her soft voice echoed in his thoughts. The shooting guard's chest felt like being crushed, and he felt himself go pale with embarrassment at his ignorance. The same night he saw the pictures in his brother's room, the picture frame on the dresser, the little girl in his brother's arms. It was her. Another memory of Jackson talking to him on the balcony of the annex gym came to mind.  
  
'We've seen a happy but brief period of her childhood before she was hurled into a cold and hellish existence... it'll be ten years this November. It only got rougher for her.' Ten years. Mitsui opened his eyes and looked at the date on the newspaper. November 14, 1992. That was two weeks ago. He felt himself sinking into deeper sadness; all that time he was with her, she smiled for him. In his heart, he knew she bore the sorrow and grief of losing her family. And yet... she smiled for him like nothing ever happened. Mitsui's eyes widened. // Did she do it to hide from me? // Even if she did, he couldn't blame her. He let himself fall onto the bed, his brow furrowing in woe as he closed his eyes once more at the memory of her flowing voice reverberating in his head. 'One day they boarded a plane for New York that never arrived there. A sudden failure in one of the engines caused the plane to crash off the city's coast. Only 24 people survived, Mr. Jackson and Sakai-san were two of them. The fathers of Mr. Miller and Fuji-san did not make it...' // My God... her family was also on that plane... //  
  
'It was difficult to cope with the loss...'  
  
The shooting guard shut his eyes tighter at the recollection of her eyes of gray and the despondency in her quiet voice when she uttered those words to him inside the Polo store months ago. He could only imagine what she felt, how miserable she must have been to be left alone.  
  
Alone.  
  
He tried desperately to swallow the lump in his throat, tears threatening to fall when he remembered what she told him when he asked her if she would miss him if he no longer stretched with him in the mornings.  
  
'I've been alone for the most part, and I've enjoyed your company every morning we stretch. So yes, I would miss your company.'  
  
Mitsui took a deep breath of air in and let it out slowly, the memory of her azure eyes burning in him as the words echoed through his head. Her eyes... Reiko told him once before that her mother described their changing color as a way to tell if she was happy or not. He was uplifted and somewhat comforted that he was somehow able to elicit this change within her, to make her happy. And yet from time to time he caught the gray sadness seeping out of her eyes, a sign that he now knew told of anguish and desolation. For a good while, the shooting guard thought that she was simply a brilliant, shy young woman who just needed a little push to step out into the world and meet new faces. He thought that the people she had bad experiences with were just jealous of her intellect and were plain idiots. They didn't see what he saw in her. She was kindhearted and honest; she was just like every other person who wanted to be happy, to laugh, to have friends. But now that he knew what she hid inside her that only her eyes revealed, he came to realize that during all those times she tried to make friends in the past, she was quietly trying to make a connection to the world outside her own, a line she threw in the hopes that someone would catch hold of it and allow her to escape. Reiko must have been so disappointed then... he now understood the hesitation she displayed whenever he introduced her to a crowd, like the time she tried out for Coach Sato's team and at Miyagi's party. He was confused before why a wonderful, talented and intelligent person alienated herself from the rest of the world. Maybe because others knew not of her loss and saw her as nothing more than a smart rich girl who more than had enough places under the sun, yet was forced to linger in the shadows. They made a prison of her mind and wealth and she was chained against her own will.  
  
'Every time a new acquaintance found out, they treated me like I was in a league of my own that they didn't want to be a part of... Being intelligent is my gift, Mitsui-san. And yet... it is also my curse.'  
  
Mitsui could feel himself struggle to find air, his chest rising and falling in a quickened tempo. // I'm sorry, Reiko-san... I didn't know... // He berated himself for all those occasions he put her on the spot and for being insensitive then, even though he knew it was useless to blame himself for the lack of knowledge of her past. But now that he knew....  
  
'Do you pity me, after hearing what I have told you?' he remembered her ask, her voice almost a quivering whisper in his head that made his heart swell and ache. And it was then that the disheartening vision of her in his dream came to mind, her fair and beautiful face streaked with tears from her wraithlike gray eyes. It was a forewarning of her muted, solitary past filled with emptiness and dread.  
  
"Forgive me if I do now, Reiko... I'm so sorry.... my poor, sweet angel... " the shooting guard mumbled quietly, unable to repress the surge of depression in his being any longer, the heated rush of empathy radiated in his veins and leaked as tears through his tightly shut eyes.  
  
  
  
Two-thirty a.m.  
  
She couldn't sleep.  
  
Reiko lay in her bed, her eyes wide open as she moved her arm under the sheets to rest the back of her hand against her forehead. She gazed through the skylight above her, looking at the tiny specks of white against the night sky that seemed to sparkle before her eyes. The moon was out, and it cast its pale peculiar light on her supine form.  
  
The remains of the evening had been quite fruitful, she thought, recalling the look of triumph on Nanami and Akagi's faces. She smiled faintly at the memory; they were both so happy, almost like little children. It gave her a sense of release whenever drew a smile from her friends and she gladly gave her help on things that came to her so easily.  
  
Friends. Reiko thought back to Nanami's warm and welcoming words. They enveloped and reassured her, and it was much similar to Mitsui's gentle manner of accommodation. She didn't expect to be received by anyone the way they did, it was so different from how she was treated by anyone who knew about her before. It was a heartwarming experience that she had not felt outside her family in years. Their tender words were like the embrace of a mother to a child long lost but found. Like being thrown a lifeline.  
  
She turned on her side and blankly looked at her dresser. On it stood the handiwork of the siblings Sousuke and Nonoko from the day care. Her eyes followed the outlines of the two figures resembling her and the shooting guard linked by stick figure hands, and her gaze finally rested on the wide grin drawn on her stretch partner's face. It made her smile. Mitsui had been so nice to her... he was by her side when she couldn't muster the confidence to face the world before her. His voice and presence were constantly reassuring. He reminded her of family.  
  
Onii-san...  
  
Reiko turned on her back, her gaze returning to the stars shining through the skylight. She drew a deep breath. Ten years have passed; how she wished for her family to be with her now, to see and meet the friends she's made, to get to know the first person she met in Japan to offer her a helping hand and wanted nothing but to see her blue eyes.  
  
Mitsui-san.  
  
Nanami had mistaken them both for being a couple. After expressing her naivety at the matter, she knew her teammate wanted to explain more of why she thought so, but her intent was sidetracked into studying organic chemistry instead. This, she didn't mind. But her brow slightly furrowed. She couldn't make a connection. Didn't being a couple entail being in love? She remembered reading about this state of mind when she was younger from various classic texts, and it was often depicted as a warm, overwhelming feeling that spurred a number of different sentiments, from anticipation to helpless desperation. She didn't fully comprehend it then nor did she care to, for at the end of the day when her lessons were over, she was content to see and talk to her family, and the love and care she received from them was all she needed to understand. But she was much older now and things around and within her were changing... inside her grew this feeling that was indescribable and disquietingly foreign to her senses whenever she was with the shooting guard. It was most peculiar, unlike anything she had experienced or learned of. At times she wondered if there was something physically wrong with her. On several occasions, her stretch partner's warm hand around hers delivered a surge of comfort within her. And yet... she didn't know why she felt a radiating, heated tingle, almost like sparks of electricity flowing throughout her, as if instinct was telling her to take flight at the contact. She didn't know how to react to it, little less describe what it was, but since she trusted the one whose touch elicited the astonishing reaction, she paid it no heed. For now.  
  
Reiko sat up, the confusion that left her mind unsettled also kept her body from rest. She was rarely confused, and for someone who was used to understanding concepts clearly on the first attempt, she was slightly disconcerted at this particular matter. Perhaps this was the 'girl talk' that Nanami spoke of, and once again her mind echoed the assent that there was so much more in life she needed to learn.  
  
Much more.  
  
Reiko glanced once more at the clock. There was no point in waiting for sleep she knew would not come. She got out of bed and slipped out of her sleepwear. Putting on a black sports bra and form-fitting shorts, she descended silently down the stairs and further down still to the basement gym. She eyed the bench press and the weights that hung on either side of the bar. She took the time to stretch her shoulders out, quietly counting off. Her soft voice resonated through the room, and for a second, her stretch partner's face flashed through her mind. She remembered offering him a recording of her voice counting off for him to stretch to, and he tenderly refused, wanting her presence with him instead. She smiled.  
  
After several minutes, she got on the bench, resting her forearms on her stomach. Her eyes focused on the bar that hung above her, and she thought of the many nights and countless hours she spent lifting this bar, trying to tire herself out, trying to forget. She lifted it off the support hooks. As she held the bar with its heavy weight, she directed all her attention to her breath, sucking in air as she lowered the bar, exhaling as she pushed it up. After a while she lifted with a rhythm that drummed in her mind, and nothing else other than the weight against her arms existed as she breathed air in and out. She would do as many repetitions as her strength allowed her until she could no longer pick the bar up from the support hooks after so many sets, and after five or so minutes of rest, she lifted more. At some point, Reiko no longer felt the physical weight against her; each push of the bar instead became a strained press for release from the solitude and heartache of losing her family. It was only when she was to the point of exhaustion that her mind was hurled back into the reality of isolation and remorse, a harsh and pitiful laugh escaping her throat at the realization that no matter how hard she pushed against this heavy burden against her chest, it inevitably fell back in her heart, its weight as constant as gravity.  
  
  
  
  
  
Kogure Kiminobu sighed as the sliding doors of the hospital opened, a gust of autumn wind outside blowing against his tired body. In his third year of medical school, he recently started his rotation in the ER, and the evening's shift was unbelievably long. Thirty hours. Of course, he had to be the one on duty when two other interns came down with the flu, and he scampered to help with a gunshot victim, an old lady who had a severe allergic reaction to shrimp but apparently had a death wish and ate them anyway, and two bickering old men with lacerations to their arms from a knife fight. And that was all after his regular eighteen-hour shift. One of the nurses caught him nodding off when he clumsily reached for some bandages on a shelf that only had gauze, and he was motherly scolded by the older nurses and shoved onto a vacant hospital bed to sleep. Three hours later, the ER was busy again, this time with passengers of a five-car pile- up, and he was jolted out of his slumber and pulled into the rush of treatments. Even after consuming bottomless mugs of coffee, he felt dead on his feet. He nearly ran into a pole as he turned the corner of the intersection, and he slapped his cheek. He sometimes wondered why he chose to study medicine. He didn't understand why someone with his brain would elect to do something stupid like torture one's self with sleep deprivation.  
  
He didn't really pay attention to where his legs took him as he walked and turned several more corners. It was like he was on auto-pilot, with the pilot in his brain passed out. So when he walked by the local basketball court, he nearly didn't see the figure sitting under the street light on the concrete bench by the court, his elbows resting on his thighs as he sat forward, his head slightly raised as his eyes stared blankly ahead. As he got closer, his form became familiar to him, and the outline of his half shadowed face was more recognizable. His sleepy brows raised, and he somehow managed to stay awake.  
  
"Mitsui, is that you, man?" Kogure asked. When the man turned his head at the acknowledgement, he was taken aback by the look of gloom on his face. It was indeed the shooting guard, though this was a side of Mitsui he never saw. "Hey, what are you doing out here?" Kogure looked at his watch. Three-thirty a.m. He took a seat next to his former teammate, his body grateful for the temporary rest. Mitsui remained silent.  
  
"Mitsui, you okay?" he asked, his concerned voice failing to mask his fatigue.  
  
Mitsui answered him with a nod, eyes still staring into space.  
  
"Wanna talk about it?"  
  
The shooting guard merely gave him a faint shrug. "I'm not even sure how to talk about it," his rough voice replied brokenly. Mitsui knew he was acting oddly thinking too much; he tried to divert his thoughts elsewhere. "How are you, Kogure? You look really tired."  
  
"I am," he answered, his observing eyes looking curiously at Mitsui. Kogure knew Mitsui normally did not venture out alone into the wee hours of the morning like this, not since his days as a thug. He looked greatly troubled. "Mitsui, you wanna go grab a cup of java or something? Maybe we could catch up. I know I haven't been keeping in touch lately. You know, too busy with school," he smirked, trying to lighten his friend's mood.  
  
"That's all right. I've been pretty busy with school myself. I just joined the basketball team."  
  
"Really? That's awesome! Your mother finally let you?"  
  
The shooting guard nodded.  
  
"Come on, let's go get that cup of coffee and catch up," Kogure gently suggested, his voice steady and supportive.  
  
Minutes later, Mitsui found himself sitting across Kogure at a table in a twenty-four hour diner. After a middle-aged waitress poured them some coffee, Kogure took several sugar packets and poured their contents into his cup. He glanced at his friend across the table, whose eyes were fixed at the swaying limbs of the trees that lined the sidewalk.  
  
"So... what's on your mind, Mitsui?" he calmly asked before taking a sip of his coffee.  
  
The shooting guard brought a hand to forehead, fingers rubbing against his temple. "A lot of things.... I kind of feel bad for you, wasting your time on me like this."  
  
"I'll be the judge of that. So are you going to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?" he joked.  
  
Releasing a sigh, Mitsui covered his eyes with his hand and spoke. "Kogure, I've got it bad for this girl."  
  
Well, this is a first, Kogure thought. He listened intently to the despondent shooting guard, occasionally taking a sip of his coffee as he told him of his blue-eyed wonder, her unbelievable talent and intelligence, her breathtaking beauty. This made him smile at his friend. Mitsui never really paid serious attention to women. Kogure's eyes widened at the revelation of Mitsui's recent discovery, and he was moved when Mitsui's voice cracked with emotion.  
  
"Kogure, when I first met her, I wanted to know so much more about her. Every morning I wake up thrilled and eager to see her. Man, I can't stop thinking about her... I think I'm going crazy. She's so nice and obliging, and innocently sincere. I don't think she understands how I feel... I don't think she's ever felt the way I do. But I try to show it in every way possible, because right now I can't bring myself to tell her what I feel, and I don't want to scare her. It's not like she was cryptic or anything... but it's almost as if she didn't want anybody to know she had it rough." Mitsui took his coffee spoon and idly stirred the black liquid in his cup. "After finding out why she briefly has those sad looks in her eyes... I don't know how to handle it when I see her again. Hell, I don't even know how to handle myself with something heavy like that."  
  
Kogure wiped his lower lip with the tips of his fingers. "You did mention before that she asked you if you pitied her after finding out about her childhood, right?"  
  
Mitsui nodded.  
  
"Well," his friend said as he looked down at the table, "coming from an uninvolved perspective, I see it this way. When she was still young, Reiko-san was easily accepted in more mature and scholarly circles because she had the know-how and the brains for it. To a curious and bright child, the world was hers to discover, and learning for her was probably as exciting as receiving a birthday present. She had a family that supported and loved her, and so when the other kids her age couldn't make heads or tails of her, she might not have cared because she had her family, and she had the world to learn from. They were probably enough for her at the time. But when she lost her family, she lost the only pillars of assurance she used to lean on for support. She lost her best friends. And now she walks guarded, constantly surrounded and yet always isolated. Before, being accepted was an effortless task because what she had was something of a rarity at such a young age. She had the mind of a genius, and from what you tell me, she still does. Now, it makes me wonder what it must be like to be in her shoes... the disappointment she must've felt when she tried to stand on her broken confidence and extend her friendship to those who didn't understand her. I can only imagine how distressing it was for her to be rejected and ignored. It must've been a harsh lesson for her to learn that knowledge from books alone doesn't have the power to make one happy. In her case, it only separated her from the rest and it was unfortunate that they didn't want to understand her. After so many disappointing attempts, she probably just accepted the fact that being alone is the way it's going to be in the long haul, and that trying to connect with other people was useless. In the past, she had her intellect and family to anchor her to social circles. Now that she's alone, she remains afloat, and her I.Q. was more of a disadvantage than an asset then." Kogure took a long sip of his coffee before continuing.  
  
"And now you came along, Mitsui, and you probably changed every expectation she had of people around her. Instead of the cold brush that she was used to receiving, you welcomed her with open arms. It must be like being so used to seeing everything in black and white, and all of a sudden catching a glimpse of a rainbow in the sky. This is all probably new to her. She might wonder why you're so warm to her despite of the fact that she's always got eyes watching her and that she's got brains that could intimidate the smartest man, not to mention pockets as deep as the Mariana trench. You said before that she helps you and Akagi with your studies... this may be a means of showing her gratitude. She's beginning to realize that the intellect that drove away the feeble and shallow people before is now drawing people to her. What she thought of as a curse is now an asset, a positive feature that she puts forward despite of all the depressing events in her life. She seems to have held up this long and this far, and that shows she's trying to escape the emotional mire she's in, and you were the first person to help her without even realizing it. She probably elected not to tell you what happened back then because she wants you to base your friendship on her character and qualities and not on her circumstances and money. After all, pity makes a poor excuse for companionship. I don't think she wanted to depress you, Mitsui."  
  
Mitsui was stilled by his friend's words. How did Kogure understand so much? They must be teaching him a lot more things in medical school than just saving lives.  
  
"Your rationale amazes me, Kogure... how the hell did you get so smart?" he asked, giving Kogure a look of astonishment.  
  
Kogure shrugged. "Hey, from what you've told me, that's the way I see it. Sometimes it's easy to see things from someone else's point of view."  
  
Mitsui leaned back in his seat and cocked his head back. "But I'm still unsure of how to handle this... I'm afraid I might act differently around her knowing all this and royally screw it up."  
  
"You know, this is just a little mental game you're playing with yourself that you can easily win."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Well, let me ask you this. Do you still love her?"  
  
The shooting guard looked at his friend. "Good God, yes." // So much it hurts. //  
  
"Then your problem is already half-solved." Getting another confused looked from Mitsui, Kogure pushed his glasses up against the bridge of his nose and smiled. "So what if you know about her past? You just told me that you still feel the same way you do even before you found out, and I don't see why it should have to change. She doesn't need your pity, Mitsui. For someone who has lost so much, she needs something that'll stabilize her existence in this world. You shouldn't let what you know about her shake you like this. Instead, you should use it to your advantage. You want to win her over, right? Knowing all this can help you mold your feelings for her in ways that she can understand and accept. But you have to understand that she won't realize them overnight. She's learning a lot of things from you and you may not even know it. So just play it cool and be patient. You've sown the seeds of love, and it's only a matter of time before they grow."  
  
Mitsui was again impressed at his former teammate's advice. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he ran the pads of his fingers across the warm surface of his coffee cup. He rubbed both temples of his head as he shifted in his seat.  
  
"Worrying about her won't get you anywhere," Kogure said as he tapped silently on the table.  
  
"I know, I know. But sometimes I can't help it."  
  
"Well, you're gonna have to because she's bound to notice if you don't."  
  
The shooting guard released an exasperated sigh. "Damn, I feel so off-kilter."  
  
Kogure let a yawn escape tactfully as he leaned back in his seat. "You probably just need sleep like I do. Don't worry, I have a feeling you'll get your balance back when you see her again. You'll come back to your senses and act normal again. So don't sweat it, okay?"  
  
Mitsui felt rather sorry for his former teammate who was only seconds away from making a bed of his chair. "Kogure, thanks for yanking my head out of my ass. I owe you, man."  
  
Another yawn crossed Kogure's face as he waved the shooting guard off. "Hey, what are friends for? I'm just making up for not keeping in touch."  
  
Mitsui looked at his watch. "Whoa, I'd better stop wasting your time. It's four-thirty already."  
  
"All right, then. So are you gonna be all right?"  
  
The shooting guard nodded. "Thanks to you, I will be." He stood and plunged his hands in his pockets. "Come on, I'll walk you home. You still live in the same house, right?"  
  
"Yeah, but you don't have to walk me home. I'm not wearing a skirt," Kogure replied with a laugh, recalling that what he just said was one of Sakuragi's favorite sayings.  
  
"I know that, but you look like you're about to fall on your face any minute."  
  
The two paid the waitress, walked out of the diner and onto the quiet streets, Mitsui keeping his friend awake just long enough to make it to his house.  
  
  
  
  
  
Reiko woke up to the gentle nudging of her shoulder. It took great effort to open her sleepy eyes, blinking and finally focusing at Jackson bent down next to her. Her gray eyes widened and she bolted up, looking around her surroundings. She had fallen asleep on a yoga mat in the basement.  
  
"Are you all right, Nakamichi-dono?" the guard worriedly asked.  
  
She nodded with a faint smile on her sleepy face. "I must've dozed off..."  
  
"Are you sure you feel okay?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Mr. Jackson." She stretched her arms out and was helped to her feet by the hulking guard. Reiko gasped. "What time is it, Mr. Jackson?"  
  
"Nine-twenty."  
  
"Oh no! I promised Mitsui-san I'd meet him at the bakery!"  
  
"Don't worry, he's already here."  
  
Reiko tilted her head sideways at the guard and made Jackson smirk. "We found you here early this morning. You had us worried when you didn't answer the intercom, but when we found you here, we figured it best to let you sleep. Mitsui-san was concerned and called earlier from the bakery to make sure you were all right. I knew you'd get this reaction, so I had Fuji pick him up."  
  
The bodyguard studied Reiko's face, looking closely at her alert eyes and the color of her skin. "It looks like you're okay. You must've had some workout. You might want to send your vitals to your uncle so he won't worry."  
  
With a nod, Reiko quickly ascended the stairs and Jackson followed. After telling her that her stretch partner was waiting in the living room, she went upstairs to take a shower, and the somewhat relieved bodyguard joined the rest of the men who seemed to be teasing Mitsui.  
  
"Mitsui-san, you look like you could use three more hours of sleep," commented Sakai who noticed the bags under the shooting guard's eyes.  
  
"You haven't been worrying, have you?" asked Miller, grinning at Mitsui who was surprised at his question.  
  
"I bet you were worried about not seeing Nakamichi-dono today," egged Fuji who garnered a pillow to the face from a snickering Miller.  
  
The shooting guard was more than a little amazed at how observant Reiko's bodyguards could be. They saw right through him.  
  
"I guess I can't keep anything from you guys," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono will be down shortly," Jackson's bass voice boomed as he entered the room, taking a corner seat on the couch. "So, what's been keeping our ace shooting guard up all night?"  
  
"Homework?"  
  
"Practice?"  
  
"Porn?"  
  
All heads turned to Fuji who tried to hide the puckish grin behind the picture of innocence he presented before the others. Several pillows simultaneously assaulted the mischievous guard. Surfacing from the attacks, Fuji grunted at the others in mock irritation. "What? He's a guy, isn't he?"  
  
Mitsui just looked at Jackson and gave him a shrug. "Well, it's definitely not what Fuji-san guessed." Before the shooting guard could add anything, Reiko walked into the living room, making Mitsui and the guards stand to their feet at her presence.  
  
"Good morning. I'm sorry I worried you all. Thank you for concern," she said with a tired voice as she gave them a respectful bow.  
  
Seeing Jackson's hands disappear into his pockets, the other guards took that as cue to politely take their leave. They quietly left the room, leaving the stretch partners to chat privately. Mitsui waited for Reiko to take a seat by him before sitting down. He could feel butterflies in his stomach.  
  
"I'm sorry for not meeting you like I promised, Mitsui-san. I fell asleep in the basement after lifting weights," she said, her cheeks pink at the statement.  
  
"Well, to tell you the truth, I haven't slept a wink yet."  
  
Reiko faintly smiled. "You didn't work on the math homework all night, did you?"  
  
"Oh, no. I'm not that studious." His reply made her laugh. "You must've worked out hard last night," he added.  
  
A sigh escaped her rosy lips as she let herself slump comfortably against the couch. "I didn't think I would tire myself that much.... I suppose I did. I did not mean to make you and the others worry," she said softly, patting the shooting guard's thick hand. Mitsui's heart just about skipped a beat at the contact. He was acutely aware of her presence and it stoked all his senses. Without thinking, he took hold of her hand and enclosed it in his. Her brows rose slightly at his warm touch, and he saw her eyes wax blue at the act. Unexpectedly, she gasped.  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
"There it is again...."  
  
"There's what again?"  
  
"This tingling sensation that travels through me every time you hold my hand." Reiko caught Mitsui smiling softly at her. "Do you suppose something's the matter with me?"  
  
"Maybe I shouldn't hold your hand anymore," he mumbled, briefly running the pad of his thumb over the smoothness of her skin before retracting his hand.  
  
She neither protested nor showed a look of relief on her face. Instead, her face grew bright at some happy thought. "Nanami-san told me something very pleasant to my ears last night," she declared in an almost childish tone.  
  
"Oh? And what would that be?" he encouraged, sinking into his seat next to her.  
  
"She and the team extended their sincere eagerness to be my friends."  
  
Mitsui brightened at her words. "That's good to know. I knew they were a good bunch."  
  
"Indeed." Reiko covered her mouth as she let out a yawn. "Please excuse my rudeness, Mitsui-san. I'm still quite sleepy, though with five hours of sleep I am usually alert." She turned her head to the shooting guard. "How are you still awake after not having slept the entire night?"  
  
"I don't know, but sitting with you here on this couch is relaxing me rather rapidly, I might doze off," he said with a chuckle.  
  
Reiko reached over to her side and grabbed a large throw pillow. "Here, Mitsui-san. Perhaps you should take a nap," she suggested as she yawned yet again. The shower she took only made her drowsier.  
  
"Well, it doesn't look good for me to visit you, only to fall asleep," he said as he took the pillow she offered.  
  
Reiko could feel her eyelids get heavy and she didn't fight the weariness that settled in her limbs. "Don't worry, no one will be looking at you since I will likely fall asleep as well," she said, almost in a whisper.  
  
Mitsui could tell she spoke the truth for her head was already leaning sleepily to one side. He smiled as he took the broad pillow, coaxed his stretch partner to lie down and placed the pillow under her head. She felt the shooting guard's finger graze over her cheek, and she opened her dozy cerulean eyes. "Are you going to leave, Mitsui-san?" she asked, her voice sounding like a timid child.  
  
"Do you want me to?" he asked, secretly hoping she would say no.  
  
She slowly turned her head at his voice. "I've noticed something, Mitsui-san."  
  
// Uh-oh... // "What's that?" he asked in a whisper, gazing longingly at her rosy lips, anxiously waiting for them to move tenderly to form words that he was afraid could expose his discovery of her past.  
  
After a long intake of breath, she spoke. "I've noticed that I am put to ease whenever you are around."  
  
Relief washed over the shooting guard. // You do the same for me. //  
  
"Forgive me for falling asleep on you again, Mitsui-san," she said, her voice barely audible. "Your voice strangely instills a soothing calm within me... your presence comforts me... please stay..."  
  
Mitsui couldn't be happier at the soft words she spoke, and it took all his self-restraint to prevent his arms from enveloping her. Instead, he took one of the pillows he threw at Fuji earlier and before lying down with his head adjacent to his dozing stretch partner, he whispered to her, his lips intentionally grazing her ear. "I will stay as long as you need me, Reiko-san."  
  
His body grateful at the supine position he took, he finally closed his eyes.  
  
// If you would let me, I would never leave your side. // 


	15. Chapter 15

Note: RTF = Radio, Television and Film.  
  
My thanks go to Sarah Yuy and her sister Shirodachi, Jo-sen7 and Seiyo, and the anonymous reviewer who left a very frank review; I appreciate your time and comments. Mark Alianza and Sinn Yuin, your messages make me smile each time I receive them. Mitchigirl and Shari, Rurouni and Sakura Riu, thank you for your support.  
  
This is for you.  
  
iron kitty  
  
  
  
Reiko and Mitsui slept for nearly six hours on the couch, their resting forms positioned head to head as they lay stretched out on either side of the large couch, and had it not been for the ringing of the videophone in the foyer, she would have slept throughout the entire day and perhaps into the night. Her uncle was beside himself on the other line, asking his half-asleep niece if she was all right, and with an apologetic bow and a sleepy grin she told him she fell asleep on the couch. Reiko apologized for not sending her vitals sooner, and she assured her uncle that there was nothing to worry about. After speaking with her uncle, she gently woke the shooting guard from his slumber and suggested that they leave for the university so as not to be late for practice.  
  
Jackson was the last to get into the vehicle and Fuji sped off as soon as he shut the door. He glanced over at Reiko and the shooting guard, both still groggy from their daytime drowse and looking like children who just woke up from after-playtime nap, much like the little ones who left their slobbery mark on him the last time they visited the day care. Sitting still between the shooting guard and Jackson, her azure eyes wandered around the vehicle, a shiny glint catching her attention from under the driver's seat. She reached down and took hold of the object, yielding a CD case from the seat with a picture of a girl in black and white on the cover. Mitsui studied the inquiring look Reiko wore on her face; just then, she looked so much like the little girl in the picture in her brother's room. Curious.  
  
"She's a really popular singer, Reiko-san. My little sister has all of her CDs," the shooting guard quietly stated.  
  
"Mr. Miller, could you please play this for me?" she requested, handing the CD case over to the guard in the front passenger seat. Upon seeing the artist on the CD cover, Miller grinned. Taking the disc out of the case, he fed it into the in-dash player and played the third track.  
  
A woman's voice filtered through the speakers with the gleeful and harmonious notes from a piano, and the beat that boomed throughout the vehicle was new to her ears. Perhaps this was the kind of music that most people her age listened to, and since she wasn't exposed to current trends in music, she paid rhythm and blues no heed. She knew about it but had yet to appreciate its music. Until now. She found herself smiling at the words of the song, and Reiko unconsciously tapped her fingers to the beat.  
  
"Like it?" Mitsui grinned.  
  
Reiko nodded. "It's refreshingly different," she said, a mixture of liking and uncertainty on her beautiful face.  
  
The song ended as the Suburban pulled to the curb, and all its passengers save Fuji got out of the vehicle. Taking Reiko's gym bag from the trunk, Jackson handed it to her and the rest of the guards flanked the stretch partners at their sides as they ascended the steps of the annex gym. Going through the double doors, the guards politely took their leave and left to take their stations at each corner of the building.  
  
They were early. The gym was silent and empty, save for a rack of volleyballs and the net setup. This setting was a welcomed sight for Reiko; the sheen of the halogen lights reflecting off the polished wooden court and the low humming of the air conditioning eased the tension in her muscles and calmed her senses. She somewhat missed the quiet mornings she spend alone doing hitting drills in the gym; the still space and high ceiling above her gave her a sanctuary from the burdensome thoughts that constantly vexed her. Those few hours were hers alone, and with each hit at the ball she felt a sense of gratification that surfaced as a smile on her fair visage. Reiko was not ungrateful for the social ties she has recently made, although there were times on the court when she secretly wished to be in a quieter atmosphere. How silly is that, she thought. She drew away from curious and sneering eyes in the past, and half of her life she spent in temperate isolation. Perhaps it was because she didn't fully understand some of the things her teammates laughed about and teased each other with. She still found herself adjusting to this environment, like a fish learning how to breathe out of water.  
  
"Reiko-san, would you like to stretch now?" Mitsui's deep voice cut through the silence.  
  
Snapping out of her thoughts, she turned and nodded at her stretch partner. Following him to the center of the court, they both sat down facing each other, hips flexed and legs extended together. Reiko counted off each set, bringing a small grin to the shooting guard's face as he closed his eyes and let her calm, soothing voice permeate through him. Stretching their lower extremities first and working their way to their arms and shoulders, they did their final abdominal stretch, their faces looking at the rafters of the gym's ceiling.  
  
"Reiko-san," Mitsui interrupted, "I've wondered for a while now. Of all the sports you could've played, why did you choose volleyball?"  
  
She halted her counts and looked up at the empty balcony seats, as if searching the empty space for an answer. Returning to a seated position, Reiko spoke.  
  
"I like the feeling of weightlessness whenever I jump."  
  
Mitsui's brows rose at the reply. He waited for her to continue.  
  
"Uncle Tak noticed this silly knack of mine when I was younger and spent as much of his free time with me as he could playing on the sand courts of Santa Monica in California."  
  
Once again Mitsui dredged up the bold-lettered headlines that flashed starkly across his thoughts. He refused to feel pity for her. He could hear Kogure's words echo in his head. "... Just play it cool and be patient... " The shooting guard watched as his stretch partner's azure gaze blinked in introspection.  
  
"But..." Reiko trailed off as she rose to her feet. Her eyes of vivid blue traced an imaginary trajectory of a volleyball shooting through the air parallel to the net. It was like second nature for her to know when exactly she would jump to hit the ball, and with a faint smile she cocked her head back as she continued. "I chose this sport because with each jump, I feel as though I can touch the sky, and the higher I jump, the closer I am to heaven."  
  
Mitsui's face softened into a smile. Before the shooting guard could open his mouth to reply, the side door of the annex gym flew open, Coach Sato and the rest of the volleyball team funneled through the entrance, filling into the gym with giggles and chatter. Upon seeing the two, Nanami quickened her pace towards the stretch partners.  
  
"Hello, don't you two make a lovely couple," the setter sang, winking at Mitsui as she gave her teammate's shoulder a friendly squeeze.  
  
The shooting guard's eyes widened at the playful suggestion, quickly glancing at Reiko's face. Luckily for him, Miki and Sayuri caught Reiko's attention before she was able to react to the comment, and Mitsui bowed his crimson face to the wooden floor. The chatty duo excitedly whispered their elated reactions to the bodyguards' presence to their amused teammate, Reiko's lips curving upwards at the starry-eyed players.  
  
Coach Sato called Mitsui over to the bench, the remaining members of the team briefly voicing their hellos as he walked to the coach's side. Sitting down, he looked at the smiling coach.  
  
"So, Mitsui-kun, are you taking care of my blue chip?" the coach slyly asked under his breath.  
  
"Trying," he replied, glancing over his stretch partner who was gradually surrounded by the rest of her teammates.  
  
"So are you officially together now?"  
  
Mitsui jeered at the remark, though this particular matter frustrated and somewhat pained him. "If you're asking for something in black and white, then the answer is no."  
  
The coach heaved a sigh. "You must be crazy to let her walk around without offering your arm out to latch onto."  
  
"Oh, believe me, my arm's been tirelessly sticking out," Mitsui declared in a hushed tone. They watched as the ladies sat in a circle to stretch, Reiko once more counting off and stretching with the team.  
  
"That's good. wait a minute, you're not holding out, are you?" sniveled the coach, his eyes narrowing at the shooting guard.  
  
// What in the world for? //  
  
"I know someone precious when I see one."  
  
Coach Sato arched his brow and grinned. He liked the candor that Mitsui possessed in his guts. "I'm just telling you like before, make your move soon, Mitsui-kun. The stands aren't packed with howling guys on game days for my looks, you know," he said, resting his elbows on his thighs. "God, I feel like a shepherd constantly being followed by a pack of wolves. Sometimes it's hard to keep them away from the girls."  
  
The shooting guard smirked from ear to ear at the suggested thought. "And so what if they're there for your looks?"  
  
Coach Sato cringed at the notion. "Are you out of your mind?! That's ludicrous!" Mitsui laughed at the coach, the latter gagging at the thought. After coughing a few times, Coach Sato sat up straight and plastered a look of relief on his face. "Well, on a different note, Reiko- chan seems to like having you around, and at least for the time being you two are together."  
  
Mitsui nodded in agreement as they continued to watch the ladies in silence from the bench. Looking up at the gym clock, the shooting guard got to his feet and slapped the coach lightly on the shoulder.  
  
"I have to get to practice now before Miwa-sensei chews me out."  
  
Coach Sato waved him off. "For that comment earlier, I really do hope you get chewed out!" he teased, waving his clipboard at the retreating shooting guard.  
  
Mitsui looked over his shoulder to take one last glance at Reiko, who was now preoccupied with the volleyball coach showing her plays on the steel clipboard. Putting on a grin, he exited through the side door quietly. Walking down the corridor, he recalled her softly spoken reason for choosing volleyball over any other sport. It seemed like volleyball liberated her from the hold of loneliness and even allowed her to defy gravity itself. Turning the corner, he delved into her answer a bit deeper; knowing what he knew now, perhaps she secretly longed to touch the sky, to jump as high as she could if it would bring her closer to her family, even if only for a moment. As he entered the main gym, his grin was replaced by a look of sadness and a pang of remorse ripped through his chest. He was going to have a hard time keeping the hand of pity from gripping his heart.  
  
  
  
  
  
Coach Miwa wore a devil's smile on his face as he walked over to his players clustered about the court. Bothered at the sight, Miyagi nudged the center at the elbow.  
  
"Akagi, Miwa-sensei's got that funny look again," the point guard mumbled, his eyes following their coach.  
  
"He probably dreamt of more plays for us again," Akagi muttered under his breath. "Prepare yourselves, guys. It's going to be a long practice."  
  
After stretching and warm-up, the coach had them doing drills they have never done before, like inbounding the ball and passing it so quickly to each other, almost hurling it at each other as they careened down the court. Then Coach Miwa had them do a passing drill that was almost something out of a Harlem Globe Trotters show, the players leering at the silly faces they made at each other as they passed the ball. Afterwards, the coach had them do some unorthodox footwork drill that made some of the players think that they were enrolled in a ballet class. Coach Miwa nearly cracked his face open seeing the droll and confused looks on his players' faces. Akagi clumsily tried to follow the coach's steps and Mitsui got yelled at for being a klutz, going the wrong direction and nearly running into his teammates.  
  
"Your other left, Mitsui-kun, your other left!" shouted the coach.  
  
To everyone's surprise, Miyagi was doing a good job keeping up with the coach's counts, and to some he even looked like a dancer on one of those Usher music videos. "Look at Miyagi go!" exclaimed one of their teammates, Akagi and Mitsui struggling to shuffle their feet fast enough without tripping and watching the point guard move fluidly in envy. After several more counts, their coach let them have a five-minute break. Catching his breath, Mitsui took a few seconds to rest in place.  
  
"Well, I can definitely tell who's got a dancing girlfriend among you," teased Coach Miwa, giving the point guard a playful punch in the shoulder that reddened his cheeks coy.  
  
"Hear that, guys? Miwa-sensei wants us to get girlfriends!" yelled Kazuma before taking a sip of water from the water fountain.  
  
"Hell, with my two left feet, I'm going to need two!" remarked one of the players and peals of laughter rang throughout the gym.  
  
Sitting next to Akagi on the bench, Mitsui was joined by the self- conscious point guard who looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Looking for somebody, Miyagi?" asked the shooting guard, wiping his brow with a towel.  
  
After getting a full scan of the gym, Miyagi let out a sigh of relief. "God, I'm glad Aya-chan wasn't here to hear that from Miwa-sensei. I wonder why Miwa-sensei's making us do all these weird drills," whined the shooting guard.  
  
"You're certainly breezing through them without batting a lash. When the hell did you learn to move like that, Miyagi?" demanded Akagi, a look of disbelief still lingering on his face at the memory.  
  
The point guard grimaced. "Aya-chan enrolled us in a ballroom dancing class about a month ago," Miyagi said, chugging some water before continuing. "Without telling me."  
  
Akagi and Mitsui's eyes widened at the confession before breaking out into laughter, irritating the point guard further.  
  
"Yeah, yeah... laugh now while you still can. When you guys get mesmerized by that woman of your dreams, I'll be the one laughing my ass off when they drag you into things you'd never expect yourself doing."  
  
"Like ballroom dancing?" Mitsui teased, wiping the corner of his eye.  
  
"Or shopping for a dress?" Akagi added, wearing the biggest grin on his face.  
  
"Now THAT I don't mind," he said, his brows raising at the idea. "I actually like it when she drags me to go shopping with her. Of course, I have to act like I protest, but the truth is, I like it when she puts on different outfits."  
  
"Good grief, Miyagi! You're not turning pansy now, are you?" Akagi said with an incredulous look on his face.  
  
"Hell no! I'm just saying that I like seeing Aya-chan smile when I compliment her on her outfits!" he objected. After a second of getting worked up at the notion, he sat in his seat chuckling. "Man, I really wonder how different you would be around a girl you liked, Gori."  
  
"She definitely wouldn't stop me from bashing your head in for being stupid," growled Akagi.  
  
The snickering point guard rolled his eyes. "Okay, whatever."  
  
"All right, men! Let's kick a little ass!" yelled Coach Miwa on the court.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ayako briefly said hello to Sakai who guarded the entrance of the annex gym, the latter opening one of the double doors for her to enter. Thanking the bodyguard, she strolled happily to the bench where Coach Sato sat watching the team do some hitting drills. He smiled at her as she took the seat next to him.  
  
"Hello, Ayako-chan. How come you're not watching over Miyagi and the others?" he asked.  
  
"Well, I have something to ask Nanami when they get a break."  
  
"Hmm? You're not scheming again, are you?" the coach asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing at Ayako.  
  
"Now what would give you that impression?"  
  
Coach Sato's face crumpled. "You and the others made a video of my silly antics on the court and broadcast it all over campus," he sobbed. "And you even sent a copy to my wife! I could curse you and Kaname-chan for being RTF majors!"  
  
"Will it make you feel better if I told you we got an A for that project?" Ayako said in a sugar-coated voice.  
  
The volleyball coach heaved a sigh. "Well, I can't do anything about it now... here, I'll give the girls a break so you can talk to her."  
  
Coach Sato yelled out a ten-minute break call and the girls crowded the benches for a drink. Seeing their friend, Nanami and the others approached Ayako expectantly.  
  
"What brings you to visit, Ayako-chan?" asked the setter, her brow arched at the basketball manager.  
  
"No big reason... but, I was wondering if you could help me find a present for Ryota."  
  
"Oh, that's right, your anniversary's coming up, isn't it?" mentioned Miki.  
  
"Yup, and I'm absolutely clueless, not to mention on a tight budget," Ayako said with a frown. "But I know you ladies have a good nose for bargains, and I figured that the more help I get, the faster I can get the present before finals week." She looked past their shoulders and saw Reiko behind them. "Hello, Reiko-san! I just love your eyes... How have you been?"  
  
She smiled. "I've been fine, thank you. And yourself?"  
  
Ayako heaved a frustrated sigh. "I'm desperately trying to find an anniversary present for Ryota, one that I haven't already gotten him before." For a moment, everyone was silent in thought. Ayako drummed her fingers on the bench and looked back up at Reiko. "Do you have an idea, Reiko-san?"  
  
Everyone turned their gazes at her as she spoke. "I don't know what an appropriate anniversary present is, but perhaps something that both of you would enjoy, like a trip."  
  
Kaname and Sayuri were thrilled at the idea. "Oh, like a romantic getaway! What a great idea!" they exclaimed.  
  
"I've already thought about it, but that's out of my budget," griped Ayako. Reiko noted the wishful tone in her voice, knowing that if she had the means, this would have been the way she would celebrate her anniversary with Miyagi. Reiko put the volleyball she had in her hand on the rack and sat down beside the basketball manager. "How did you want your anniversary night to be?" The rest of the team sat around the two on the bench and listened intently.  
  
"Well... I'm pretty simple when it comes to stuff like this... I've always wanted to have dinner at a nice restaurant, and then take a quiet walk under the moonlight and watch the stars from a balcony... I don't even care if it's on a roof."  
  
Some of the girls giggled at the image she painted in their minds; the others sighed at the proposed scene.  
  
"Ryota always says that it doesn't matter what we do for our anniversary, as long as I'm with him, he's happy. I'm grateful for that, but then again, he's done so much for me... always following me around and carrying my books for me and stuff... I just want to show him a little bit of my gratitude."  
  
Nearly everyone heaved a dreamy sigh at her admission. Reiko's interest at the matter peaked.  
  
"How long have you been together, Ayako-san?"  
  
The basketball manager smiled at the thought. "Four years this coming December."  
  
"Good grief, Ayako-chan! That's longer than some marriages out there!"  
  
"Yeah, and speaking of which, when are you getting married?"  
  
Ayako blushed at the suggestion. "Oh, stop it, you guys... we're still in school." She looked at Reiko who looked back at her with bluish gray eyes. "Wow, your eyes can change colors?!"  
  
All eyes were upon a slightly surprised Reiko as they studied the transformation. They gasped excitedly.  
  
"Oh my God, I've never noticed that..." Nanami mumbled as the rest remained quiet to gaze at the striking eye color change. "No wonder the stands are always packed, Reiko-chan. I bet you rake in half the fans in the stands with those dazzling eyes of yours."  
  
Their teammate demurely lowered her gaze to the wooden floor, the light reflecting from it only illuminating the brightness in her eyes. "They're just eyes." Remembering what Ayako said earlier, she lifted her gaze back at the fascinated basketball manager. "What kind of cuisine do you like?"  
  
"Anything but Japanese. It seems like we've eaten at every Japanese restaurant around town," she managed to mumble, still looking at Reiko's eyes.  
  
"I know of someone in the restaurant business who may be able to accommodate your needs, Ayako-san. Do you have a phone number where he can reach you?"  
  
Snapping her mind out of trance, she blinked. "Oh, yes I do!" Ayako took a piece of paper out of her purse and scribbled some numbers across. "God, you don't know how much this means to me, Reiko-san!" she said ecstatically, giving Reiko an unexpected hug that somewhat startled her. Her reaction softened and she patted Ayako's back in return.  
  
Practice continued after a few minutes and Coach Sato ran more plays with the ladies for another hour. After the end of practice, Reiko sought Jackson out who stood guard at the east wing of the gym, asking him if he could lend her the cell phone for a few minutes.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Job well done, men! Go hit the showers!"  
  
Tired and worn-out, the basketball team dragged their sagging forms into the locker room and mechanically took their clothing off before going into the showers. Mitsui trailed behind Miyagi and Akagi, and he sat on the bench in front of his locker only to stare out into space.  
  
"Hey guys, I need some ideas. I don't know what to get Ayako for our anniversary."  
  
Both Akagi and Mitsui turned their heads to the point guard who was taking his practice jersey off.  
  
"How about some jewelry?"  
  
"I don't know what kind she likes... and I'm no good at picking stuff like that."  
  
"Why don't you drag Akagi with you to a jewelry shop? He seems to know his stuff on precious metals," Mitsui suggested.  
  
"What makes you say that?" asked Akagi.  
  
"Remember when I found Reiko-san's pendant? You told me it was platinum."  
  
"It's 'because Haruko has a locket with the same luster as hers. It could've been steel for all I know."  
  
"Just go with him, Gori. If you don't, we'll never hear the end of it."  
  
The large center was about to open his mouth but decided not to utter a word. Miyagi could be very annoying whenever he wants something out of someone. He merely grunted an agreement, producing a grin on the point guard's face.  
  
"Thanks, Gori! It's a date!" goaded Miyagi, a grin stretched across his face from ear to ear.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?! And my name is Akagi! Tsk, damn that Sakuragi!"  
  
Laughter bellowed out their throats as they took their towels and hit the showers.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Good evening, Uncle Tak. How are you today?"  
  
"I feel better, now that you've called."  
  
Relief.  
  
"You usually call in the mornings. Anything special going on?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, I would like to ask a favor of you."  
  
Grin.  
  
"Ask away."  
  
"Could you contact the immediate families of Mr. Fuji, Mr. Sakai, Mr. Miller and Mr. Jackson for me?"  
  
"Sure, but what's this about?"  
  
"A Christmas present."  
  
Understanding.  
  
"I'll contact them right away."  
  
"Thank you very much, Uncle Tak. I would also like to know if the houses in Kyoto and the house by Tokyo Bay are still available for use."  
  
"As far as I know, yes."  
  
Contemplation.  
  
"Speaking of Christmas presents, Rei, do you have any requests from good old Uncle Tak?"  
  
A giggle.  
  
"A good bear hug will do."  
  
A sigh.  
  
"You drive a hard bargain. I'll try to get somebody else to do that stent replacement on Christmas Eve then."  
  
"Even if you can't, it's quite all right. I will be happy either way."  
  
A pause.  
  
Reservation.  
  
"By the way, how is your friend Mitsui-san doing?"  
  
"Rather well. He has a very bright future ahead of him in basketball, and he is very intelligent."  
  
Optimism.  
  
"Oh? That's good to know. I would like to meet this Mitsui-san one day."  
  
Cheerfulness.  
  
"I think you would find him very pleasant. Oh, Uncle Tak, another thing... Do we still own 'Jolly Miss Molly'?"  
  
Laughter.  
  
"Yes, I believe so. Why do you ask?"  
  
"I would like to do something nice for a new friend and her boyfriend of four years."  
  
Awe.  
  
"Wow, good for them."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Uncle Tak?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
".... Never mind."  
  
"No, what is it?"  
  
"I'm still quite unsure how to ask my question, and perhaps later on this evening I will know exactly what to ask."  
  
"All right, but don't forget to tell me about it later, okay?"  
  
A nod.  
  
"I will, Uncle Tak."  
  
"Now go on and have some fun. I'll contact their families as you requested, and if my hunch is right, I believe I'm one step ahead of you. I'll make arrangements right away."  
  
A grateful smile.  
  
"Thanks again, Uncle Tak. You're so good to me. I'll talk to you later."  
  
Click.  
  
Dr. Tak Nakamichi waited to hear the other line go dead before replacing the telephone receiver back on its base. He sat in the swivel chair of his well-illuminated office, and he thought about his niece who was an ocean away from him. Standing up, he walked to the window and raised the blinds, the bright sunlight making him squint at the horizon. He thanked God silently for letting his niece find some peace on this earth, and he prayed that it would last.  
  
  
  
  
  
After putting on clean clothes, Nanami took Reiko by the hand and practically dragged her to the steps by the annex gym where Ayako and the others waited.  
  
"Where are we going?" Reiko asked.  
  
"We're going shopping! Is that all right with them?" the setter inquired in a whisper and rolling her eyes to the direction of the four bodyguards.  
  
Reiko smiled. "I'm sure if you ask them nicely, they'll let me go."  
  
"Okay then." Putting on a charming air, she walked over to the casually dressed men and with a honeyed voice asked them if they would let her teammate go with them to the mall. The four looked at each other and shrugged, nodding back to the pleased setter. Watching the exchange, Reiko understood why Nanami became the captain of the volleyball team: she knew how to deal amicably with people. Almost skipping back to Reiko's side and hooking her arm around hers, she put on a smile that constantly gave her a sense of relief.  
  
"Let's go!"  
  
The ladies received many admiring looks from passersby in the mall, especially from the men walking past them. They were a bunch of pretty faces, and they were given many compliments from the shop clerks that made their faces all the more attractive with blush. They had fun going to each shop, looking at some gift ideas and laughing at Miki and Sayuri's wild suggestions. The older guards had their fun as well, poking fun at the younger guards whenever the girls that charmed them most stole glances behind their shoulders. Reiko trailed behind her teammates and spied a familiar face across the shop in front of which they stood.  
  
Mitsui heard the familiar sound of collective giggling and he could've sworn he heard Miki and Sayuri's signature chortle. Turning his head in the direction of the laughter, he stopped in his tracks to find Reiko smiling warmly at him. His heart jumped at the sight; he was so happy to see her, in the mall of all places. He was mutely grateful for Miyagi dragging him along with Akagi to buy Ayako an anniversary present. His eyes drifted to the group ahead of her, his eyes growing wide as saucers upon seeing the basketball manager's curly hair past the ladies who crowded around her.  
  
Keeping his cool, the shooting guard spoke in an even and hushed tone. "Miyagi, don't look now, but your girlfriend's just right across this shop."  
  
The point guard, who was standing beside Akagi by the display case looking at jewelry, quickly switched his gaze out the shop's entrance and his pupils dilated at the surprise he saw. Reflexively, he crouched down and pulled Akagi in front of him as if to shield him from detecting eyes.  
  
"Shit! I can't let her see me, Gori! Quick, hide me!"  
  
"What the hell?! What are you talking about?!"  
  
"Look out the store, you oaf! Aya-chan's inside the store in front of ours!" Miyagi hissed.  
  
"Do I look like your mother?! Get the hell off me!" Akagi barked, his strong arm swatting at the smaller point guard.  
  
Mitsui saw the whole fuss and rolled his eyes. Of the years he's known his teammates, they haven't changed. He made sure that he kept an eye on the volleyball team, and his brows rose when he saw Reiko and Jackson walking toward the jewelry shop. Looking past their shoulders, he could see that Miller, Fuji and Sakai stood in the entrance of the shop, as if they knew to prevent the ladies from finding them out.  
  
"Hello, Mitsui-san. It's a surprise to see you here," Reiko said softly, her eyes softening into a blue hue that locked Mitsui's gaze onto hers.  
  
"All the more so for me, and especially for Miyagi who's hiding by the counter," he said, bobbing his head at the crumpled form yanking at the back of Akagi's shirt. "I don't know how I get dragged into these things, but Akagi said he'd never forgive me if I let him go look for a present for Ayako with Miyagi alone."  
  
"I can see why, Mitsui-san," she replied, sympathetically chuckling at the sight. Catching the point guard's eye, she quickly bowed her head in acknowledgement. "Hello, Miyagi-san," she whispered.  
  
The point guard blushed embarrassedly and muttered a hello back, consciously and awkwardly straightening up and backing away from Akagi who kept swatting at him.  
  
"Reiko-san, do you think you can stall them inside that shop for awhile? I'm trying to buy something for Aya-chan."  
  
"Certainly," she replied, afterwards glancing over her shoulder to find her teammates preoccupied with the little trinkets the store had for sale. "Congratulations, Miyagi-san."  
  
"Thanks," Miyagi grinned. "And please don't tell Aya-chan you saw me," he pleaded.  
  
With quiet laughter, Reiko nodded. "Your secret is safe with me." Returning her glance to his stretch partner, her eyes were met by Mitsui's pleased gaze.  
  
"Reiko-san, how was practice today?" he asked, trying to hide his elation behind the casual talk.  
  
"It went very well. Sato-sensei requested that Mr. Jackson and the others practice with us every day until the season is over."  
  
"Really? That's good for Miki and Sayuri," the shooting guard winked. Jackson saw this and wore a big grin on his face.  
  
"They express their fondness of Fuji-san and Mr. Miller to me on a daily basis as well."  
  
Mitsui laughed. "I hope that doesn't bother you too much."  
  
She smiled. "I find it amusing."  
  
Mitsui saw the bodyguard behind her look at his watch and whisper in Reiko's ear. As she listened, the lines of her face bent into a ravishing smile that rendered the shooting guard's legs weak. A second later Jackson turned around to rejoin his fellow guards.  
  
"Have you looked over that packet of problems we have to do for math class?"  
  
She gently shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Mitsui-san, though I'd be happy to work the problems with you."  
  
The shooting guard leaned against the shop's door frame and grunted. "I wish I didn't have to worry about grades."  
  
Reiko tilted her head at his statement. Mitsui noticed this and laughed. "I'm sorry. Don't mind me, I'm just moping." In a softer, deeper tone, "Thank you, Reiko-san. I would love to work on those problems with you. You make my life so much easier. I just hope some day I can return the favor."  
  
The timbre of his voice echoed through and saturated her with warmth that seemed to emanate from her chest with every heartbeat. Reiko was about to remark on this feeling when she heard Miyagi and Akagi call her over. Walking up to the counter next to them, she was asked by both which piece of jewelry would suit Ayako the best. After giving her opinion, she told the three that she had to go before the rest of the ladies notice her absence. As she walked out of the jewelry store, Mitsui followed, and his eyes looked back and silently asked his teammates to let him go with her. Akagi and Miyagi acquiesced with a nod. They knew better than to keep the shooting guard away from Reiko.  
  
"Reiko-san, wait up."  
  
She looked over her shoulder and smiled at his stretch partner who caught up with her. "Will you no longer be searching with Miyagi-san for a present?"  
  
"Well, he doesn't really need my help, and I figured if I hang around you more, maybe some of your brainpower will rub off on me." Mitsui made her laugh as they made their way to the trinket shop.  
  
The ladies were quite happy to see Mitsui with Reiko, and they were actually pleased to see the two of them together. More than once have they talked about the two making the cutest couple, and with knowing glances they looked at each other and grinned at the idea. Nanami quietly motioned the rest to give them some space to walk together, quickening their pace on purpose to leave the two some time to connect. Someone suggested stopping by the large music shop by the corner, and Ayako thought it was a great idea. Miyagi liked to play the guitar on his spare time whenever he wasn't on the court playing basketball. Upon entering the store they were greeted by a tall, outgoing sales clerk who called out to Mitsui.  
  
"Mitchy! How's it going?" Yohei's jovial voice asked while the rest of the clerks behind the counter eagerly approached the group of ladies that thronged the guitar showcase.  
  
"Yohei, it's good to see you again," the shooting guard answered, shaking his hand firmly. "You remember Reiko-san from Miyagi's party, right?"  
  
"Why yes, who could forget someone like you, Reiko-san?" Yohei winked, drawing out a soft chuckle from Reiko. She gave the disc jockey a quick but polite bow, and Yohei was impressed by her civility. "So what can I do for you two today?"  
  
Reiko explained the situation to Yohei and he nodded a few times as she spoke. Scanning the display cases, Yohei motioned them over to a counter that displayed a number of accessories for the guitar enthusiast. Yohei and Mitsui got to talking about Sakuragi and the rest of the gundan while Reiko walked along the edge of the counter to look at the items in the case. Turning around, she found several Roland keyboards, each staggered one above the other. A faint smile crossed her lips as she turned the power switches on each one of them. Seeing everyone else around her preoccupied with the sales clerks, she turned the volume knobs on the keyboards all the way to the minimum, pushed the memory button and began tapping on the keys, playing a tune only she could hear in her head. After a minute or so, she switched keyboards, tapping on different keys and another silent tune. Yohei saw this in the corner of his eye and walked over to her, impressed at the way was her fingers flew over the keys.  
  
"Oh, I didn't know you played the piano, Reiko-san," Yohei said in passing, eyeing the red lights that denoted a recorded tune on the keyboards.  
  
She turned her head at the comment as she continued to manipulate the keys with ease. "I try to play when I have the time."  
  
The DJ laughed. "The way you're playing, you sure look like a pro."  
  
Reiko timidly lowered her gaze, only to look up and see Mitsui grinning at her. She smiled back, entrancing the shooting guard yet again with the depths of her azure eyes. A few more seconds of her fingers dancing across the keys, Reiko stopped and stepped back from the keyboards, bumping into the shooting guard.  
  
"Oh, pardon me, Mitsui-san," she said softly.  
  
Yohei's curiosity got the better of him and he reached for the volume knobs on all three keyboards. "May I have a listen, Reiko-san?"  
  
Acquiescing with a nod, she suggested that Yohei press the playback button after seven counts on each keyboard. Eager to do as she said, he pressed the button on the top keyboard, counted seven beats, and proceeded onto the middle and lower keyboards. Reiko inched closer to Mitsui's side, the shooting guard smiling at the brief brush of her arm against his, almost looking like she didn't want anyone else to know what she had done. His head turned at the melody that came out of the speakers, its tune identical to the one he had heard in the Suburban on the way to the annex gym. He was awed by the quality of sound that emitted from the speakers; it sounded like Yohei put in the CD himself and pressed play.  
  
// She played this by ear? //  
  
The volleyball team and Ayako crowded around Yohei to see what the commotion was all about, and soon their heads moved up and down to the beat. Reiko slowly walked away, averting her attention to the guitar display case. Mitsui followed.  
  
"How did you do that?"  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Play that song off the top of your head after listening to it just once."  
  
With a shrug and a faint grin, she moved to the case immediately facing outside the store. "I'm not sure myself, Mitsui-san, but when I hear a song playing, I can also see the notes being played." Glancing at the bodyguards that loafed around the store entrance, she asked almost inaudibly, "Do you think that strange, Mitsui-san?"  
  
Standing beside her, he leaned over to her ear and whispered. "I think it's awesome, but it looks like you don't want the attention. Is that why you inched away from Yohei and the keyboards?" He watched the guards walk by the entrance with Reiko, Jackson and Sakai occasionally exchanging a few words with the younger guards.  
  
"I was merely playing around with it," she coyly replied, tapping lightly at the display case that housed a particular electric guitar with a white finished body. "That song has quite a delightful air to it. I couldn't get it out of my head."  
  
Mitsui nodded. "You truly are brilliant, Reiko-san," the shooting guard concluded, flashing his stretch partner a smile and causing the same surge of warmth to radiate within her. Her eyes slightly widened at the feeling. Ignoring the odd sensation, she chanced to tell Mitsui of her idea while the rest of her teammates and Ayako occupied themselves with Yohei and the other clerks.  
  
"Mitsui-san, I was wondering if you could help me with something," she whispered in his ear, leaning closer to the blushing shooting guard.  
  
"Anything," he replied softly without thought.  
  
She proceeded to tell him of what she planned to do the next few days, and the grin grew bigger and bigger on Mitsui's face as he listened. This must be what she and Jackson secretly exchanged earlier, and he absolutely loved the idea of helping her after knowing what it all was for.  
  
"Count me in," he eagerly said, noticing the deep glints of blue grow brighter in her smiling eyes.  
  
"Promise you'll keep it a secret?" Reiko posed, holding her little finger between them.  
  
"I promise," Mitsui answered, locking his pinky around hers, both chuckling at the silent transaction sealed in the most adorable of ways. Sakai noticed the exchange, quickly glancing at a grinning Jackson, and they weren't the only ones who noticed. From the far corner where the ladies huddled, Nanami wore a smile that stretched from ear to ear at the sweet scene.  
  
There is hope yet for Mitsui, she thought.  
  
  
  
Several days went by and Reiko and her two tall classmates came to the bakery every morning to do portions of the homework packet at a time. The old proprietor of the bakery always had their Sunday Mornings waiting for them and served them in mugs that had their name practically written on it, they were there so often. The bodyguards joined them inside and sat at the table adjacent to theirs, drinking their cups of java and munching on kolaches. It was raining outside, and for the first time in the few months of Reiko's stay in Kanagawa, she finally saw rain. From time to time she would look up out the window to watch the raindrops beat against the glass, and because of the pouring rain, not as many students came to the bakery for breakfast. Akagi and Mitsui would ask her questions here and there, and her smile made the two basketball players demure whenever she would find their equations answered correctly. They were three-quarters done with the packet, and still had a week before finals. All three had semifinal games coming up on the weekend, and Reiko and Mitsui felt sorry for the center who was a bit stressed out with the amount of studying he had to do for his upcoming finals.  
  
"Akagi-san, I would like to help you if you need my help," she offered, a look of concern apparent on her face.  
  
Putting his pencil down, Akagi rested his chin in his thick hand. "Thank you, Reiko-san. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you up on that. I think I'll do all right in the other classes, but I have to be certain about organic chemistry."  
  
"Hey, maybe you and Nanami-chan can both get Reiko-san to help you," Mitsui said, his face brightening at the idea of the setter and the center together. He observed Akagi's face slowly go red in the face at his suggestion. // A-ha! Gori's got a crush on her! //  
  
"Please do not hesitate to ask, Akagi-san. I'm sure Nanami-san would enjoy your company as well."  
  
Akagi had to look away to keep from showing his reddening cheeks. Mitsui nearly laughed in his seat; it wasn't everyday he got to see the center being bashful about anything. After a sip of his Sunday Morning, he knew he probably acted just as transparent towards his stretch partner.  
  
"Well, I'd better go. I've still got a bunch of lab homework to turn in," the center said as he packed up his packet and writing instruments. "Thanks again for your help, Reiko-san. I'll see you on the court later, Mitsui." Waving goodbye to the guards beside them, he ventured out into the wet street with a huge umbrella that suited his massive frame.  
  
"What do you plan to do now, Reiko-san?" the shooting guard asked, his eyes locking onto her sapphire gaze.  
  
Finishing the rest of her kolache, she smiled and said, "Yoshi-san called to tell me that he's preparing something special for them tonight."  
  
"Will you be at the restaurant as well?"  
  
"I haven't decided yet... Oh, Mitsui-san, they haven't a clue of what's to happen tonight, and I need you to convince them to go with you to this place," she said as she took a business card out of her purse and handed it to him.  
  
Studio One.  
  
"What's this place?" he asked, reading the name and the number on the card.  
  
"You will soon see," she replied, a hint of mischief in her mellow voice. He grew warm at her slight playfulness, for it was rare to see her in this elfin mood.  
  
"What if they don't want to go?"  
  
"Would it help if I accompanied you?"  
  
// Always! //  
  
"I think that would be more convincing. What should we say?"  
  
She tilted her head to the side as she looked up in thought. "I'm not sure..."  
  
"How about we just make it up as we go along?"  
  
Reiko smiled at the suggestion. "That's a wonderful idea."  
  
  
  
That afternoon only Jackson and Miller showed up to practice with Reiko, much to the disappointment of Sayuri. Both guards came dressed and ready for practice, and they gave the whole team a vigorous workout, hitting volleyballs with the force greater than Reiko's attacks. Coach Sato saw the advantage of letting Reiko's bodyguards practice defense with them; it showed in the reactions of the girls on the court.  
  
After practice, Mitsui somehow managed the point guard and his girlfriend to wait with him for Reiko on the steps of the annex gym. The two guards saw and acknowledged them, Miller staying behind while Jackson went ahead to retrieve the vehicle. Reiko emerged from the annex gym and found the four pleasantly talking to each other. Ayako was first to see her and excitedly approached her.  
  
"Reiko-san, that man you said would contact me? He called earlier!" she said in a low but excited tone.  
  
"What did he say?" she asked in a whisper, feigning ignorance to it all.  
  
"He said he can squeeze a reservation in for me tonight, but I'm not ready!" Ayako replied, the tone of urgency apparent in her hushed voice.  
  
"Don't worry, Ayako-san. I'll take care of it," she answered, a reassuring hand gently patting her shoulder.  
  
"Hey, what are you two gossiping about over there," Miyagi suspiciously asked, his gaze heavy on Ayako's anxious face. Before he could walk over to the conspiring pair, Mitsui stayed him with a strong grip on his shoulder.  
  
"You better not interrupt them if you know what's good for you," he said loudly, and then in a whisper, "Ryochin, don't piss her off, otherwise she won't talk to you even if you give that present to her for your anniversary.  
  
The point guard eased his stance and lightened up. "Hey, you're right." Flashing a smile that told Ayako he was agreeable yet wary of her, he asked, "So where are we going?"  
  
The black Suburban pulled up on the curb and the four descended the steps. "Mitsui-san would like for us to help him look for a suit."  
  
"We are?" asked the astonished shooting guard. Ayako gave Reiko a questioning look as well.  
  
"Oh, what's the occasion?" Miyagi asked as they got into the vehicle.  
  
Throwing a glance at Reiko who merely nodded at him, he clumsily stammered, "My parents want me to go to a business party with them." Looking back at his stretch partner, he found both her brows raised and her rosy lips upturned. Miller took his seat in the front passenger side of the vehicle and Jackson drove off. Minutes later they found themselves standing in front of a building of limestone and Spanish tile. Mitsui, Ayako and Miyagi's mouths gaped at the sight, and there were attendants at the entrance who opened the doors for them. Crossing the threshold, they were surrounded by racks and rows of elegant evening gowns and fine suits, with a showcase of silky ties, shoes, purses and every accessory one could think of. A thin and short man emerged from one of the rooms in the back and approached Reiko with open arms. He spoke in a foreign language, and to their surprise she replied in the same language without so much as a hesitation. They looked at each other in wonder, questioning if this was still the Reiko they knew. After what seemed like a warm and lively exchange, the man led Ayako to one of the changing rooms with another woman following them. Before Miyagi could protest, he too was led away into one of the rooms adjacent to the one Ayako entered. Miller and Jackson took a seat in the front foyer, Miller pulling out his palm pilot and Jackson calling someone on his mobile phone. Mitsui was lost amidst the commotion.  
  
"Reiko-san, won't they -"  
  
"Fuji-san and Sakai-san are here, Mitsui-san," she interrupted, taking hold of his hand and pulling him towards the door. "I will explain later. We are needed in the restaurant now."  
  
Not able to form an interjection with his lips, he mindlessly let his stretch partner lead the way out the doors and down the steps, finally getting into the waiting Suburban up front. Fuji drove the two away with Sakai calling Jackson back.  
  
"We're on our way," the guard said, shutting the flip phone as he looked over his shoulder at Reiko. "Nakamichi-dono, Jolly Miss Molly has been prepared for departure."  
  
"Thank you, Sakai-san."  
  
Mitsui sat beside Reiko with questions waiting to pour forth from his reluctant mouth. She must have planned for this surprise extensively, and she really didn't need his help after all. How nice of her to do this for them, even though he wasn't sure of the extent of the surprise. He had a feeling that it was going to be one of elegance and extravagance.  
  
"So what exactly do you have planned for Ryochin and Ayako-chan?"  
  
She giggled and wore the grin of a child hiding a secret. "It's fun playing Santa Claus, Mitsui-san." Reiko looked out the passenger window and added, "I'm just allowing Ayako-san to have a wonderful memory."  
  
"I have a feeling you're going all out," suspected Mitsui, finding her hand and giving it a quick squeeze, eliciting faint laughter from her that made the two guards look back in question.  
  
  
  
They arrived at the old man Yoshi's restaurant and were immediately ushered through a side entrance of the banquet hall that was closer to the lake. The wait staff was busy tending to the other guests and the restaurant seemed to be booked till closing time. The shooting guard found himself moving oak tables and chairs to the corners, some of the waiters helping him along with a familiar one named Takumi. Reiko helped with placing the cutlery onto the tables and she placed long-stemmed roses in the tall vases of each table except for the one in the center of the banquet hall. With every thing in place, Fuji came into the banquet hall.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, yours and Mitsui-san's evening attire are ready."  
  
The shooting guard whipped his head towards Reiko at the guard's words, and she motioned with her head to follow her out through the side entrance. He quietly obeyed and trailed behind her.  
  
"Yoshi-san will be playing music for Ayako-san and Miyagi-san this evening, and I was wondering if you could replace Yoshi-san for a few hours at the reservation desk. Don't worry, I'll be with you," she reassured, giving Mitsui that smile that would forever be his undoing.  
  
"Hey, anything you say, boss," he winked. Mitsui was beginning to enjoy this.  
  
Minutes later he emerged from the men's restroom dressed in a vest and suit that were almost exactly like the ones he wore to dinner with Reiko, with the exception of the tie being of a metallic hue of blue. Reiko was already waiting by the reservation desk looking over the appointment book, her hair pinned artfully above her head and exposing her graceful neck. She wore a jet black two piece suit, with the dress shirt underneath her jacket of the same color as the shooting guard's tie, which made him smile at the complement. So when she lifted her head to meet his eyes with vivid blue ones, he suddenly found it difficult to find air.  
  
"That suit fits you so well, Mitsui-san," she remarked, noticing the sharp lines of his shoulder that matched the chiseled features of his handsome face.  
  
"You look great yourself," he managed to stammer, the shooting guard dazzled yet again by the striking smile she gave him.  
  
After an hour of seating guests in the restaurant, Ayako and Miyagi walked through the double French doors, a look of incredulity plastered on their faces. Despite this they made a gorgeous pair; the man with the foreign accent at Studio One clothing them in the finest garments and their attire made them look like royalty. Ayako's evening gown and hairstyle were beyond compare to the affluent female patrons that night, and Miyagi looked like a movie star in his ensemble holding the basketball manager's hand in his. Upon seeing the two behind the reservation desk, Miyagi immediately approached them.  
  
"What the hell is going on here, Mitsui? I thought we were supposed to help you find a suit, and here you are already dressed in one while Aya- chan and I were unclothed and dressed without our consent and shanghaied in a black limo to this joint, and -"  
  
Reiko stepped forward from behind the desk and gave them a solemn bow and an apology. "Please forgive us for this deception, Miyagi-san. I was informed that it was your anniversary and I asked Mitsui-san to help me with Ayako-san's wish."  
  
The point guard dumbfounded, he took a step back and looked at Ayako in surprise. She could only look down in embarrassment; she herself did not know that what Reiko had in mind was to this elaborate extent.  
  
"Aya-chan... I... I... " he trailed.  
  
"This way, guys," Mitsui interrupted as he took two leather-bound menus and motioned the puzzled couple to follow. Leading them to the banquet hall, he let the two waiters in the room pull out the chairs for them. After being seated, he handed them the menus.  
  
"Here you go, you two. Enjoy," he said with a wink. As he turned to leave, one of the waiters asked them what they would like to have for their beverage.  
  
Rejoining his beautiful stretch partner behind the reservation desk, they received and seated the patrons as they walked through the door, marking their names with a dot in the appointment book. Two hours later the point guard and his sweetheart left the banquet hall and stopped by the desk, giving the stretch partners his thanks and a polite and humble bow. Ayako gave Reiko another hug and whispered a heartfelt thank you in her ear, the corners of her eyes threatening to spill tears of joy. Miller ended up being their chauffeur for the evening, and the guard gave Reiko a knowing nod before going outside to open the limousine door for the couple.  
  
After they left, Mitsui's hands found their way to the pockets of his trousers, feeling like he made a difference that meant so much to Ayako and Miyagi, even if the part he played was small compared to what Reiko had done for the two. He smiled at her kindness.  
  
"This was really sweet of you to do for them, Reiko-san," he said softly, his voice almost a low, purring tone. "What's going to happen next?"  
  
With a smile she gently tapped on the appointment book with a pen. "Mr. Miller will drive them to a pier where they will be taken to a private beach on the Jolly Miss Molly."  
  
"Jolly Miss Molly?"  
  
"It's a 188-foot yacht."  
  
Her answer proved Mitsui right: when Reiko extends her help, she would help all the way beyond anyone's expectations. He observed an impressionistic sketch of Ayako and Miyagi on a pad of paper next to the appointment book, their drawn figures linked at the hands. He was reminded of the two siblings at the day care center who gave them a card of a similar setting. Noting his attention on the pad, she slid it closer for the both of them to see.  
  
"When I was little, I watched my parents pull a similar stunt on my older brother and his girlfriend for their anniversary," she said, her soft voice barely audible to the shooting guard's attentive ears. "The look of surprise on my brother's face was something I will never forget... he was so happy, he locked both my parents into a crushing embrace." Chuckling at the memory, she turned to her stretch partner. "I'm glad Miyagi-san didn't do the same to us."  
  
"Ayako-chan sure looked grateful," he stated, eyeing her slender index finger as it lazily traced the outlines of her drawing.  
  
"I wonder what it must be like," she said, staring blankly through the French doors, "to love someone who loved you in return with equal fervor."  
  
His eyes widened at her words. He wanted so badly to reply, to say what he felt when he first saw her, to utter how he felt whenever he was with her, to confess how much he loved her. He braced himself instead as he listened to what more she had to say.  
  
"Nanami-san mentioned once to me that I do not see what she and the others see right before my eyes... " she trailed off, her gaze drifting down to the linked hands sketched on the pad. "There are still so many things I don't understand about people around me... I feel as if I have a steep learning curve to follow."  
  
Mitsui prevented himself from carelessly letting words roll off his tongue and restrained himself with his hand gripping his other fiercely behind his back. "There's no rule that says you have to be in a hurry to learn, right?"  
  
Reiko nodded, her cerulean gaze now upon the shooting guard's face. "I suppose I'm just being silly... I'm so used to someone else teaching and telling me of these things. I have so many questions, but the people I truly want to pose these questions to are-" she caught herself, quickly looking away from Mitsui's observing eyes.  
  
// No longer with you... // He knew who she meant, and he felt somewhat responsible for the awkward mood between them.  
  
"I apologize Mitsui-san," her voice quivered, her eyes looking down at the appointment book. He was afraid she might cry.  
  
"Hey, hey..." the shooting guard mumbled, releasing the grip on his hand and bringing up to lift her delicate chin. "What happened to that beautiful smile of yours?"  
  
Reiko tried to look down once more, but Mitsui's palm on her cheek prevent her from doing so. The hand on her face was so warm, like the comforting touch of a brother. The blue hue in her eyes increased in intensity as they met Mitsui's ardent gaze. She tried to smile but couldn't, the contact eliciting the same electric response she received whenever he held her hand, the same surge of warmth swelling from her chest to her entire being. She became acutely aware of the close distance between them.  
  
"Mitsui-san, your gesture reminds me of my brother somehow," she whispered, startling the shooting guard into withdrawing his hand from the softness of her cheek. A bit crestfallen at the comment, he refused to show his dejection and instead continued to look at her flushed face, though the familial comparison somewhat disappointing him.  
  
"Forgive me, Reiko-san... I'm being too forward," he whispered, hinting a look of disappointment in his eyes that did not go unnoticed.  
  
"However," she managed to continue as she turned her gaze aside, "my brother's touch never felt so stimulating and comforting at the same time."  
  
Mitsui's eyes widened at the forthright admission, and his heart beat uncontrollably at her words which seemed to ring wildly in his head.  
  
"I don't understand this feeling, Mitsui-san. I don't know why I get this reaction within me with every touch of your hand... Many times I've wanted to ask about it, but I can't find the words to explain it."  
  
He had to will himself to breathe evenly, pouring his concentration in every breath he took. She was all he could see and hear at that moment, and the din and chatter of the restaurant patrons disappeared along with everything else around them. The words jumped out of his mouth against his will.  
  
"I think I know what it is you feel, because you make me feel the same way when I'm with you."  
  
Reiko glanced his way and watched silently as he took hold of her hand, an act that was so innocuous to her in the past now forcing her pulse to race. The reins of restraint snapped within Mitsui and he faced the possibility of unrequited love with all his courage.  
  
"This feeling you have... I also felt it the very first time I saw you. I myself asked what it was, and I found the answer after noticing this feeling within me every time I see and talk to you. I feel as if I'm walking through the clouds when I'm with you, as though I can do anything whenever you give me one word of encouragement, and I feel like I am the most fortunate person whenever you smile at me... I've wanted to tell you many, many times before, but I was reluctant to... because... because I was afraid you might misconstrue me as an all-too-eager person... because I wanted you to know for yourself what I felt before and what I'm feeling right now as I stand here before you."  
  
Her eyes of sapphire blinked, and before she could think of words to say to him, his words to follow took her by surprise.  
  
"I love you, Reiko-san. I love you so much, I don't know what to do with myself." 


	16. Chapter 16

Eyes widening at his declaration, she felt a surge of heat rushing to her cheeks as she looked back down at their linked hands. Almost suddenly, she became aware of the minutest details of his touch: the gentle but firm grip he had on her hand; the irregular, elemental coarseness of his palm that handled a basketball thousands of times; the slightest tremble in his clutch that told her of an unspoken risk underlying his uttered confession. She felt the same electricity travel through her fingers, her arm and seconds later her whole being.  
  
"Mitsui-san, I -"  
  
The French doors opened and a chattering party of five walked through the entrance, making their heads turn at their laughter. They both faced and welcomed them, abruptly disrupting the atmosphere with a bow. As she stood up straight, Reiko noticed that the shooting guard's warm hand still clung to hers behind the reservation desk away from the discerning eyes of the guests before them. She quickly looked up at Mitsui whose chiseled features were stained with a furious blush, and she smiled coyly before turning back to the guests.  
  
"Good evening. Watanabe Yasunori, party of five," the man before them said as he looked down at the appointment book.  
  
With her free hand, Reiko coolly flipped open to the most recent page date and scanned the names, the link between her and her stretch partner securely remaining. "We are glad you could make it, sir. Please follow Mitsui-san to your table," she said, taking five menus and handing it to the shooting guard, encouraging him to let go with a light squeeze. Mitsui shot her an intense look before taking the menus and relinquishing the softness of her hand. He led the guests into the dining area, and as he walked away from the reservation desk, Reiko took a few seconds to orient herself with what just happened. Recalling the glance he gave her before leaving, she unconsciously leaned on the desk in thought.  
  
His glance betrayed an air of longing.  
  
She surfaced from her thoughts upon hearing Jackson call her name.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, your uncle is on the line," he said, holding the cell phone out to her. Thanking the guard, she took it and asked if he could stand in for her behind the reservation desk.  
  
"Where will you take the call, Nakamichi-dono?" the brawny guard asked.  
  
"May I go out to the deck?"  
  
With a nod, he took the two-way radio from its belt clip and sent word to Sakai and Fuji to stand by.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson."  
  
Before she could walk away, Jackson stayed her with his large hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right?" he asked, his bass voice low and gentle.  
  
Reiko replied with the faintest of smiles. "Yes, I'm quite all right. Thank you, Mr. Jackson." And with that she left, weaving through the busy traffic of waiters and tables of chattering guests.  
  
After seating the guests, Mitsui headed for the men's room, splashing his face with cold tap water. // What just happened out there? // Taking a few moments to look at himself in the mirror, he watched as the water dripped from his face. // There's no turning back now. // He took one of the hand towels that lay in a stack by the cologne counter and wiped the water off his face, taking a deep breaths and letting them out slowly before tossing the towel into the linen bin.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Oh... my.... God..."  
  
This was all Ayako could utter as she and the point guard stared at the large yacht cruiser gently dipping up and down. Miyagi eyed the luxurious monstrosity, taking note of the bright lights that illuminated the cabin. Just below the side of the yacht were the words 'Jolly Miss Molly' etched in an elegant cursive font. Ayako took a slender finger and pushed up against the point guard's gaping lower jaw.  
  
"This way, please," said Miller as he led the pair up a smooth wooden ledge. Hand in hand, Miyagi led Ayako up the ledge, softly telling her to watch out for the step-off.  
  
"Please make yourselves comfortable. There are refreshments waiting for you on the rear deck. We will be cruising the bay shortly."  
  
Too appalled at the magnificence of the vessel, they mumbled their thanks and walked through the cabin area. Smiling at the retreating couple, Miller cranked the anchor up, climbed the stairs to the bridge and prepared the cruiser for a ride down Tokyo Bay.  
  
Ayako clung to Miyagi's arm like she was in some strange wonderland; it seemed like every thing that surrounded them sparkled with opulence. The cruiser was big enough to have a dance floor and a full-service bar. On either side of the interior, a leather couch with plush pillows and a hand-carved mahogany coffee table furnished the living room. As they walked through, they finally spied the rear deck at the other end of the cruiser where a table stood with a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice and two crystal champagne flutes. A tray of strawberries lay beside the bucket. Stepping onto the deck, Ayako walked to the edge of the vessel, holding onto the railing as she looked at the horizon where the water met the blackness of the starry sky. Never in a million years could she have imagined something like this for their anniversary. It was like a Cinderella story, and Reiko was her fairy godmother. Ayako was startled by a loud pop that made her turn around.  
  
"Don't worry, it's only the cork," the point guard said, smiling as he poured the effervescent liquid into the glasses. Walking towards Miyagi, Ayako took the champagne glass he offered along with a strawberry. She took a bite and a sip, her eyes widening in delight.  
  
"Ryota, this is so good!" she exclaimed, taking another bite and a longer sip of her champagne.  
  
"I like the way it tickles the back of my mouth," remarked Miyagi after gulping down all the contents of his glass. Setting it down on the table, he watched his girlfriend place another strawberry between her red lips to take a bite, spurring him to pull at his collar to let the flash of heat that seared him escape the skin on his neck. Her attention drawn by the calm and breezy scenery, Ayako was absolutely gorgeous before his eyes, and she didn't notice that he was watching her with ardent eyes and the feral need to embrace and kiss her breathlessly. Not yet, he thought. She returned her gaze to him and both were surprised to hear music playing around them. They looked at the cabin and saw no one, and Miller was out of sight. Recognizing the beat and song, Miyagi slid his arm around Ayako's slim waist and pulled her closer to her, extending his arm to his side with his palm up.  
  
"Dance with me?" he asked, his voice nearly a whisper.  
  
A little startled at first, she relaxed into his hold and clasped her hand into his soft but firm grip, her other hand resting on his muscled shoulder. She smiled as he led her to dance, his steps sure and light as he kept up with the rhythm of the music.  
  
"What are you grinning at?" he playfully asked in a low, almost purring voice, tickling her with the soft brush of his lips against her ear.  
  
"Nothing... I guess those ballroom dancing classes really did pay off," she said as she winked impishly at him.  
  
"Oh, they sure paid off in more ways than one," he chuckled, looking at the stars above them.  
  
"Really... name one."  
  
"Well..." he trailed off as he spun her around and away from him, only to pull her back and slip his arm around her waist. "While you were gone during the early part of practice a few days ago, Miwa-sensei had us do these footwork drills that were just like the steps we went over in dance class." The point guard beamed at the recollection. "He said he could tell that I had a girlfriend who likes to dance, and Mitchy and Gori couldn't believe I was moving like I was, only ten times faster, of course."  
  
"And to think that you fought tooth and nail with me after finding out what I've done for us... aren't you going to thank your clever girlfriend for thinking ahead?"  
  
"Maybe," he said indifferently, his wearing an expression of mock nonchalance. Miyagi caught her arching a brow at him.  
  
"Certainly," he affirmed, momentarily stopping them both as he withdrew his arm from her waist and caressing her blushing cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I'd like to thank you now," he said, giving her no time to respond as he let himself drown in the intoxicating warmth of her lips.  
  
  
  
"Hello, Uncle Tak. How are you this morning?"  
  
A chuckle.  
  
"It's still nighttime over there, Rei, but I'm doing fine. I called to tell you that the arrangements you requested for have been made."  
  
"Thank you very much, Uncle Tak."  
  
"Hey, anything for you."  
  
Hesitation.  
  
Detection.  
  
"Something on your mind, Rei?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes..."  
  
Curiosity.  
  
"Care to share with your funny uncle?"  
  
A smile.  
  
"You are indeed a funny uncle."  
  
Pause.  
  
"Uncle Tak, how should one react if someone -"  
  
"Told you he loved you?"  
  
Astonishment.  
  
"How did you know what I was about to say?"  
  
Sigh.  
  
"My niece is a beautiful and bright young woman. I knew that somewhere along the line your stretch partner would tell you sooner or later. The guy would have to be blind and dumb not to tell you."  
  
Uncertainty.  
  
"I find myself not knowing what to do... I haven't learned anything about this... what do I do, Uncle Tak?"  
  
"Well, what do you feel for him?"  
  
"I - I don't know how to explain it..."  
  
"Then do what you do best, Rei."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"Finding out."  
  
Silence.  
  
"This isn't anything you can be prepared for by reading a book or listening to an instructor, Rei, and I'm sorry that I can't be there for you now. But this kind of thing you have to learn through experience alone and the only way to know is finding out. Do you understand?"  
  
Reiko heard the sound of heels striking the wooden deck, prompting her to straighten up as she held the phone to her ear. She looked over her shoulder to see Mitsui talking to Sakai who stood by the door that led to the deck. Shortly after their conversation, Sakai went back inside the restaurant. Looking up at the starry horizon, she took a deep breath of apprehension, and her uncle instantly knew that the shooting guard was close by.  
  
"Yes, Uncle Tak. I have to go now."  
  
"All right then. Be good, okay?"  
  
"I will."  
  
"And Rei?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"Your first guess is more often right than not. I'll call again soon."  
  
Click.  
  
Her eyes looking straight ahead at the full moon peeking over the horizon, Reiko slowly lowered the phone from her ear as the footsteps grew louder and louder. It stopped several feet away from her, making her turn around to see a look of uneasiness masking the shooting guard's handsome face. Averting his gaze to the side, Mitsui found himself speechless before her. He had crossed over the line between indecision and confession and there was no turning back. // So why the hell can't I say anything? // He continued to approach her until he stood merely inches away from her side, mimicking the direction of her gaze upon the waters of the lake.  
  
Quiet.  
  
Mitsui could hear himself breathe against the cool December breeze that blew past them, making his stretch partner's hair dance in the evening gentle wind. He didn't know his heart could beat so forcefully, so quickly, and he had to inhale deeply to make sure he wasn't in some kind of waking dream.  
  
"Reiko-san, I'm sorry if I have been too direct... the last thing I want to do is scare you away."  
  
He saw her nod slowly from the corner of his eye. "It's quite all right. You have not scared me away, Mitsui-san," she replied softly.  
  
Another bout of silence crossed between them and the shooting guard felt a heavy weight crushing his chest. The silence was unnerving, and he was so vulnerable to what she could say. He knew the risk and he took it valiantly; all he could do now was brace himself for the worst. Reiko walked over to the balustrade that outlined the deck, leaning her elbows on it as she continued to watch the lake.  
  
"I just spoke to my uncle a few moments ago. He just made me realize something..."  
  
"And what's that?" he said, leaning on the balustrade beside her.  
  
"That I am absolutely clueless to what's apparent before me." Reiko let a sigh escape her lips as she stood up straight. "Maybe this is why Nanami-san reacted so surprised when I told her that I have never dated anyone before. All I know about dating is that a man takes a woman out to dinner and has an amicable talk with each other, but I am beginning to realize that there is much more to it than that. It is no longer just a ritual that I have read about in literature."  
  
The shooting guard remained silent as she tapped on the balustrade with a slender finger, waiting for her to continue. She sighed.  
  
"I may be considered intelligent by many, but I have the knowledge of a newborn when it comes to relationships. I don't know what to do or say. I have mostly lived my life alone and detached from every one else... I've learned to expect nothing from others, and. I wonder if it has jaded me all these years... perhaps it's the one of the many faults that I have not been able to settle."  
  
Mitsui blinked at the blue eyes that looked at him as she turned her head towards him. Their deep cerulean hue drew his concentration, his breath catching at the sincerity and susceptibility that showed through her innocent eyes.  
  
"I have been taught almost every thing I know to this day, and I always had someone to turn to whenever I had a question to ask. I'm afraid that this privilege is no longer available for me.... What I wish to learn now is something I must teach myself... I need to know what it is that lies beyond the ties that bind you and me. I need to know what it feels like the way you do. I need to know why I get this warm and tingling sensation throughout me with the simple touch of your hand. I wish to know all these and much more, but I will require some time...."  
  
Reiko turned her eyes back at the full moon's ascent over the heavens, and the shooting guard could sense that she was searching for answers inside her mind. The moonlight blanketed the features of her face and her statuesque profile looked like the perfect sculpture etched in his imagination.  
  
"I admire your patience, Mitsui-san, and I am grateful that you pulled me from the isolated shell I've enclosed myself in. I would like you to honestly tell me why you have gone out of your way to do this for me."  
  
Taking a deep breath, the shooting guard spoke. "I was fascinated by your eyes and the way you played volleyball the first time I saw you. This is an undeniable truth. When you spoke to me, I saw another person wanting to reach out from within you. And when I saw the happiness you felt in your blue eyes, I wanted to show you that there are a lot more reasons for you to be happy, other people who could make you happy. I never knew that being with you could make me feel the same, and the way you make me feel gives me a natural high.... I'm a hopeless addict." Mitsui stood and dug his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "In a way, I'm selfish."  
  
Reiko tilted her head at him. "In what way?"  
  
Closing his eyes for a momentary pause, he opened them as he replied. "Making you happy makes me feel like I'm on top of the world.... Whenever you smile for me, I feel like my blood rushes with euphoria and I want to make you even happier."  
  
She smiled at the explanation as she unconsciously pulled at her jacket and crossed her arms. The temperature outside grew cooler by the minute, and the wind only made it colder.  
  
"It doesn't sound like selfishness to me, Mitsui-san," she said, her voice hinting a tremble as she spoke his name.  
  
Noticing her posture, he shrugged out of his dark dinner jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Eyes widening at the surprise, she thanked him and drew the jacket tighter around her. Another minute of silence passed between them before either of them uttered a word.  
  
"I am fortunate to have met you, Mitsui-san. I would not have known the friends I have now if it wasn't for you."  
  
"It's a small price to pay for the happiness you give me," he replied softly.  
  
A pause.  
  
"Mitsui-san?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Would you treat me differently if you discovered something sad about me?"  
  
His heart nervously skipped a beat. // Does she know I know about her? //  
  
"Well, you've remained a friend to me after I told you of my past, and I don't see why I can't return the favor," he answered, careful not to voice any hint of knowing.  
  
"That is comforting to know."  
  
A burst of fireworks over the horizon suddenly caught their attention, red, yellow and blue metallic colors painted the night sky as the blooming flares burned. Mitsui heard his stretch partner gasp as she looked on in excitement.  
  
"I hope Ayako-san and Miyagi-san like this," she said, the lively light of the fireworks dancing in her eyes.  
  
"You mean the fireworks are for them?" the shooting guard asked, shocked at her statement.  
  
With a nod, she replied, "I thought it would be a good idea."  
  
Turning his attention back at the breathtaking pyrotechnic display, he grinned at the thought of Ayako and Miyagi engaged in a kiss under the moonlit sky. He can't recall how many times he'd dreamed of Reiko and he doing the same, but trust and uncertainty drove them both to hang in the balance, and he had a feeling that this night would bring the breaking point. He decided to raise the bar.  
  
"Reiko-san, I understand that you need to know many things on your own, and that you will need some time to find your answers. I will give you all the space you need, and I will be here should you ever need me." He paused for a moment, putting his words and emotions to order.  
  
"Please... let me be by your side, even if it's only for a short while... even if you discover that what you feel is nothing like what I feel for you, I don't care. Being with you has enriched me to the point where I don't need anything else. This is all I ask of you."  
  
She gave him a momentary look, noticing that he had inched closer to her, his torso angled but not completely facing her. Having him near gave her a blanket of consolation, and though she was past all those horrid memories of her childhood encounters, she found solace in his presence, knowing somehow that with her stretch partner around, the memories she will have from here on out will be happier ones. As another gust of wind blew by, she realized that he was trying to block the chilly breeze from blowing against her.  
  
"Cold?"  
  
She nodded, trying to huddle herself inside his jacket.  
  
"Thank you for understanding and being honest with me. You have been a very caring person to me, Mitsui-san. I gladly welcome you by my side."  
  
He flashed a warm smile that encouraged her to continue.  
  
"I have trusted you all this time, Mitsui-san. Thank you for guarding this trust.... and.... I was wondering," she said, pausing for a second to pull tighter on his jacket around her, "if I could ask a favor of you."  
  
"Anything," he replied, gazing ardently at the warm blush on her cheeks, wondering if it was caused by the cold or the words she was about to say.  
  
Reiko caught a stray lock of hair floating with the cold breeze and secured it back behind her ear. "Knowing that you are willing to let me be makes me appreciate your understanding. I know not what I will feel, nor am I aware of what to expect or where to start. I.... I need direction.... a guide to chart my course and find my answers.... and I was wondering...."  
  
"I can show you the way," he interrupted, her eyes widening at his words.  
  
She suddenly smiled; she was beginning to feel like she was talking to mind readers, the shooting guard and her uncle both.  
  
"What's so funny?" he asked, a smile creeping across his lips.  
  
"You must be some sort of clairvoyant to know my words before they leave my lips," she said, making Mitsui laugh with her. When the laughter subsided, she continued. "You are too kind to me, Mitsui-san."  
  
Then, after another pause, "Will you go away if I find that I do not feel the same way for you?"  
  
A sudden pang ripped through him. It was very possible that he could get his feelings hurt; he hoped for the best outcome of it all, and even if she did not return his feelings now, she consented to having him close to her. This was enough to sate his longing for now. "I would be lying if I said it wouldn't affect me, but I will always be here for you regardless of your decision."  
  
Finding solace in his words, she drew a deep breath. "Is that a promise?" she whispered with childlike innocence.  
  
"Yes, it's a promise," he replied, his little finger held out for her to wrap her slender pinky around his in agreement, the shooting guard growing accustomed to this method of sealing the small pacts between them. She smiled, twining her slender little finger around his, her eyes glinting a brighter shade of blue in their depths. He could do nothing but dissolve in the warmth of her smile. He disregarded the odds of being hurt, for he figured that if he was allowed to be with her, either as a friend or something more, then all else matters little to him. He knew he would end up loving her still even if she did not return his feelings; he was lucky enough to gain her trust. He was satisfied to walk the face of this earth knowing that he will always be someone she can rely, someone she gladly welcomed to be with her than to go through life not being there for her.  
  
// What a sad existence that would be... //  
  
He saw her shiver at the gust of wind that blew past them. "Perhaps we should go back inside, Reiko-san. Jackson-san and the others might get angry if I let you turn into a popsicle out here."  
  
Mitsui ushered her back inside the restaurant, his hand gently pressing against the small of her back. Coming into their view, the bodyguards who sat by the table nearest the door to the deck stood in acknowledgement, noting the jacket around her and the unfamiliar shade of blue that shone in her eyes. The three looked at each other in awe; they had never seen it in that profoundly azure hue before. The old proprietor of the restaurant beamed at the sight of Reiko, and she offered to play a few tunes for her and her companions' meal. Laughing at the proposal, Yoshi agreed. The number of guests have dwindled somewhat; it was getting closer to closing time. An hour and a half later, cups of coffee have been consumed, used plates were carted off, and the last notes of a song had been played. Bowing politely at the old man, Reiko gave her thanks and promised to come back to play the piano for him. Taking their leave, she and the guards along with Mitsui left the restaurant, the stretch partners sitting together in comfortable silence in the back seat of the Suburban, leaving the rest of the guards to ponder on what was spoken between the two.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Hold your position down the line, Miki-chan!"  
  
With Reiko's bodyguards hitting volleyballs at them with all their might, Coach Sato drilled the girls mercilessly that afternoon. He used his team's disadvantage against the men's size and strength, knowing that this was the only way to refine their reaction to hard hits. By giving them a much harder team to play against, he predicted his team's defensive skills to improve. He grit his teeth at the fact that today's practice would be too harsh on the girls, but he knew they had the discipline to understand that winning the championship required giving more than their best. He could see it in their attitude and their eyes. After a straight hour of defense drills, he called for a five-minute water break. The whole team nearly gasped for air at this point, some of them nearing collapse as they dragged themselves to the benches.  
  
Looking over the bench facing the opposite court, Reiko found the guards sweating from the drill as well. With only a few days left before the finals, every one seemed to be on tenterhooks on the court. She took in water in big gulps, thankful for the short break they were given. Her other teammates slowly clustered around her on the bench, their faces wearing a tired, almost blank stare.  
  
"Oh God, I think I'm going to turn into putty," mumbled a weary Miki who plopped down onto the bench beside Sayuri.  
  
"Good, maybe Miller-san will save you when you pass out," said Sayuri, her comment garnering a few tired giggles from her teammates.  
  
Miki was still able to smile dreamily. "Wouldn't that be nice. I almost want to tell Sato-sensei to work us breathless."  
  
"You don't think he's doing that now?" interjected Yuki who was sprawled out on the floor. Nanami laughed at her grievance as she took another sip of water from her water bottle.  
  
"Hey guys, think about it this way. In a few days, we will be playing against the number one ranked team in the nation. I don't know about you, but I think it's awesome that we've even gotten this far. Our school has never won anything past regional finals in volleyball, and we're going to be the first ones to vie for a national title. Now, I don't care if goofy Sato-sensei works me to the bone, 'cause if it gets us that huge trophy and that title flag to hang over our head, it'll be worth every drop of sweat."  
  
The whole team agreed in unison, the tired look on their faces replaced with determination.  
  
"And if you consider the fact that an unranked team like ours kicked everyone else's tail to get to the finals, we're just as good if not better than the top-ranked teams out there."  
  
The ladies grinned at the setter's logic.  
  
"Remember how hard it was to get us here in the first place, ladies. All this hard work will be for nothing if we practice with less than our best. The fatigue you feel in your muscles now is temporary. This is what will really win it for us," Nanami said as she pointed to her heart. "So do you have the hunger to win the championship?"  
  
"Yeah!" the team yelled in unison.  
  
"Are we going to kick butt?"  
  
"Hell yeah!"  
  
"Then let's get it on!"  
  
Coach Sato grinned, watching as the whole team raised their water bottles and shouted in excitement. He was lucky to have Nanami as the captain of the team. As they took their last sips of water before returning to the court, Reiko stood impressed at the setter's charisma. Positive people like her come far and few in between in this world, she thought. Pumped with enthusiasm, the players huddled in the middle for another affirming cheer, and as they took their positions, Reiko laughed at her teammates as they blew kisses at their coach.  
  
Rolling his eyes at them, Coach Sato was secretly touched by their determination, and he grinned at their liveliness. He ordered the setters to switch positions and got a few silly giggles from the girls, whispering jokes to each other no doubt. As the bodyguards pounded volleyballs at them once again, he wondered if this was what it was like to be the father of several daughters. He sighed and thought of his wife.  
  
  
  
In the main gym, Coach Miwa and his team were also preparing for their final game against the number one ranked Sendai Tigers. He worked on the team's offense, and the men enjoyed the passing the ball high for their teammates to dunk the ball in for two. The coach knew that he had been relentless with them for the past week, running them ragged with horses and drilling them in defense. He wanted them to have fun today to take some of the pressure he saw the men subjected themselves into. Glancing down at his clipboard, he reviewed the starting roster. In a few days, they will all see if what they have worked for all season long will come to fruition.  
  
Dismissed from practice after several hours, the three former Shohoku players ambled to the locker room, shedding their dripping wet practice jerseys and hitting the showers. Each in their shower stall, the three quietly stood under the pelting water.  
  
"You've been awfully happy lately, Miyagi," said Akagi, his deep voice resonating through the shower room. He was answered by a hearty chuckle. "So, how did your anniversary with Ayako-chan go? You never did tell us."  
  
"Why don't you ask Mitchy over here? He was part of the whole scheme."  
  
"What scheme? Mitsui, did you screw it up for him?"  
  
Both point and shooting guards laughed at Akagi. "No, no. I just helped Reiko-san with getting them together, that's all. Tell him, Miyagi."  
  
The point guard heaved a sigh. "Man, it was like I was dreaming the whole time. I don't even know how to describe that night."  
  
Oohs and aahs boomed from teammates' throats.  
  
"Look, you don't have to tell us the details, just give us the big picture."  
  
"Okay, okay. well, first of all, Reiko-san and Mitsui-san tricked us into going to this really high-class clothing store. The manager of the joint then dragged me into a dressing room, practically ripped the clothes off my back, and began speaking to me and his assistant in a foreign language. Man, I was about to yell rape."  
  
Mitsui and Akagi snickered at the point guard who was grateful for the shower curtains that kept his reddened face out of sight.  
  
"About an hour later, they made me stand in front of this full-length mirror, and I was surprised that I looked pretty good." "Sure you did, Miyagi," grunted Akagi.  
  
"But I really did!"  
  
"Akagi, keep it up and you'll never hear the end of it."  
  
Another groan from Akagi and Miyagi continued.  
  
"Anyway, a few moments after that, Aya-chan walks out of her dressing room."  
  
The center and shooting guard strained to listen above the droning stream of water from the showerheads. Silence.  
  
"Miyagi, you still alive?"  
  
"Huh? Oh yeah."  
  
"What the hell happened to you?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing. it's just.man, I'm really lucky I've got a gorgeous girlfriend.. She was like royalty in that dress."  
  
"Oh boy, I'm out of here," Mitsui said, turning off the water, wrapping his towel around his waist before leaving his shower stall in laughter.  
  
  
  
After getting dressed, Mitsui stepped out of the locker room to be greeted by the basketball team's manager. He could tell by the glow on Ayako's face that she and Miyagi had renewed something between them since the night of their anniversary, and thinking back to the point guard's quiet and dazed stares, he concluded that the two went together like a wink and a smile. Akagi caught up to the shooting guard and the two said goodbye to Miyagi and Ayako whose hands intertwined as they walked out of the gym. Mitsui saw the center grin as they headed for the annex gym.  
  
"They really do look good together, don't they," mumbled Akagi, his deep voice hinting an unspoken envy.  
  
"Yeah, and I bet you and Nanami-chan would, too."  
  
The large center whipped his head at Mitsui. "What?"  
  
He grinned. "I know you like her, Gori. Why not just admit it?"  
  
Wide-eyed, Akagi looked ahead in search for an answer, his flushed cheeks betraying him.  
  
"What's this? Gori, are you blushing?" teased the shooting guard.  
  
"Shut up, Mitsui," growled Akagi. "Did you do the same with Reiko- san?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes, I did."  
  
The center halted. "Really? Good for you! So are you two official now?"  
  
With a sad smile, Mitsui replied, "I guess you could say that we're in the exploratory stage right now. I've told her how I feel. but she's unsure of what she feels."  
  
"And you're okay with that?"  
  
"I'm okay if I can be with her. I just want to be there for her, even if she finds out she doesn't love me."  
  
Akagi admired the simplicity to his friend's thinking. Most men would adamantly have it all or nothing at all, but the shooting guard's voice hinted no trace of disappointment. The route Mitsui chose to take was a passive and patient one, and it showed the far extent of his love for his stretch partner.  
  
"You're a good sport, Mitsui.... I hope you get the happy ending you deserve."  
  
Deep inside, Mitsui prayed in his heart for the same wish to be granted, though at times a quiet but shrill little voice in his head asked the same gnawing question. // Am I somebody who really deserves her? //  
  
The two teammates and Reiko had promised to meet after practice earlier during the day after working on their final exam packet at the bakery. They only had several more pages to go before completing their packets, and Akagi had begged her if he could check his answers with her before looking over his organic chemistry lessons. She kindly agreed, and so now both he and Mitsui found themselves walking toward Reiko's guards who waited by the benches with Coach Sato.  
  
"Ah, here come two of the school's finest basketball players," greeted the volleyball coach as he shook each player's hand. They both returned the greeting, acknowledging the guards with respectful nods.  
  
"I hope you guys win this weekend, Mitsui-san. I have a lot riding on the finals," smirked Miller.  
  
"How much is a lot?" asked the shooting guard.  
  
"A million yen," answered Fuji.  
  
Both teammates looked at each other in shock.  
  
"Don't worry, Fuji bet twice as much as I did," Miller said with a laugh.  
  
The door to the locker room swung open and Reiko and Nanami emerged with their gym bags slung on their shoulders, both occupied in conversation. They ceased to talk as they approached the men waiting for them.  
  
"Hello, Mitsui-san, Akagi-san," Reiko greeted. "Were you waiting long?"  
  
They shook their heads. "No, we just got here."  
  
The setter's cell phone rang and she excused herself to answer it, stepping away from the group.  
  
"Akagi-san, I would like to help Nanami-san with her lessons as well. Would you mind if she joined us?"  
  
// How lucky can Gori get? // Mitsui thought as he grinned from ear to ear at his blushing teammate.  
  
"I - I don't mind."  
  
"So, where would you guys like to study?" asked Mitsui.  
  
Nanami walked to Reiko's side. "That was my Aunt Ayumi. She was wondering if I had any hungry teammates to follow me home, she made too servings of gyoza and katsudon." Laughing, she said, "So are you guys hungry?"  
  
"Akagi is," piped Mitsui, his eyes glinting mischief. He turned to his teammate who glared dangerously at him.  
  
"Would it be all right then if we studied at your house, Nanami-san?" Reiko asked, noticing the smile his stretch partner shot her.  
  
The setter nodded as she glanced down at the wooden floor, trying not to make her reddening face less obvious. Reiko shot an inquiring look at Jackson who acquiesced with a small grin.  
  
At the Ueno household, the four guards found themselves helping Nanami's aunt Ayumi in setting the dining table, and they helped carry plates, glasses and utensils from the kitchen into the dining room. They found out that she ran a catering business, and the business luncheon she catered for that day had a fewer number of guests than expected.  
  
"I really appreciate your help, Jackson-san," Ayumi said as she took out a tea tray.  
  
"Oh, please don't mention it, Ayumi-san. We are actually the ones imposing, and we thank you for having us," the guard's bass voice said. He watched her peek into the living room, the four friends all huddled around the coffee table.  
  
"I'm so glad Reiko-chan is helping Nanami-chan out. She seems less stressed out with her studies these days," whispered Ayumi.  
  
Jackson turned his gaze to the direction of the living room. Reiko was at one end of the coffee table, the eraser end of the pencil in her hand tapping soundlessly against the paper. He smiled at the fact that she goes out of her way to help those around her, and if she had been given the same chance when she was younger, she would have done the same thing. His smile slowly dissolved at the recollection of her past.  
  
"Jackson-san, are you all right?" Ayumi quietly asked.  
  
Hurled back to the present, he straightened up and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine... let me help you with that tray, Ayumi-san..."  
  
In silent apprehension, Nanami, Mitsui and Akagi watched as Reiko looked over their homework. She occasionally stopped to add a pair of parentheses here, a plus sign there. She pointed out the mistakes and explained her corrections, writing down an equation similar to the one they missed and making them work it over. After perusing several more pages, she collected the papers together and placed them in a neat stack on the coffee table.  
  
"You all did so well on your homework. I believe you won't need my help anymore," Reiko said with a smile.  
  
"What are you talking about? You're my lucky charm!" sang her teammate, reaching for her hand and shaking it happily.  
  
"Thank you so much, Reiko-san. You've just saved my GPA," said Akagi as he packed up his books. "I'll be so relieved after I turn that packet in tomorrow."  
  
"Me, too," voiced Mitsui, catching his stretch partner's attention and forming a silent 'thank you' with his lips. She grinned.  
  
"Hey guys, brain food in the dining room!" called Ayumi from the kitchen.  
  
  
  
  
  
Friday came and the lecture hall was filled with students, some standing around chatting, others going down the aisle to the front and placing their final exam packets on a large stack by the podium. Mitsui and Akagi looked both ways down the hall, looking for their blue-eyed tutor. They could hear some of the eager comments about her solving the equations that the professor had posted on the board.  
  
Mitsui grinned in thought. // They have so much faith in her... //  
  
The two teammates turned their heads at the sound of heels striking the marble floor. Seeing Reiko's slender form past Jackson and Sakai's broad shoulders, they greeted and walked with them into the lecture hall. The buzz from the students grew to a noisy chatter as they took their seats, the bodyguards taking their positions at the end of the row and at the exits. A few moments later, the professor entered the lecture room followed by several men in suits. Jackson threw a look at Miller sitting at the other end of Reiko's row, and the younger guard felt the cautious scrutiny in his stare as the reedy professor and his entourage walked in.  
  
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I can see that most of you have stacked your final exam packets here," the professor said as he pushed his thick glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Those of you who haven't turned them in may do so at this time."  
  
Reiko and the two basketball players got up from their seats and descended down the aisle to the podium, their other classmates doing the same. As they stood in line to turn in their packets, she happened to notice the apprehension that Jackson wore on his face. Tilting her head slightly to the side, she was answered by a series of hand gestures from the brawny guard, imparting an unspoken caution with the furrowing of his brows. She acknowledged with a nod, reassuring him with a smile. After witnessing the silent communiqué, Mitsui leaned into her ear and whispered.  
  
"Is everything okay, Reiko-san?" he asked.  
  
"I believe so," she replied in a whisper. "And I think you'll feel better after turning these packets in."  
  
Grinning in agreement, they finally got their turn and placed their final exam packets in the stack. Before she could walk away, the professor's nasal voice called out to her.  
  
"Nakamichi-san, am I right?"  
  
Slightly surprised, she smiled at him with bluish gray eyes as she nodded.  
  
"Have you given the equations on the board any thought?" his shrilly voice asked.  
  
Turning her gaze to the chalk marks strewn across the blackboard, she felt an odd familiarity with the order of the equations, the numbers in the equation forming a cascade of numbers flashing in her mind.  
  
"Then again, I must be mistaken," the professor continued, crossing his arms in mockery. The shooting guard was about to place a hand on his stretch partner's shoulder when their instructor spoke once more. "After all, no man can really solve this problem, let alone a woman."  
  
Eyes narrowing at the professor, Mitsui felt his teeth clench and the hands by his sides ball up to form tight and ready fists. Akagi noted his reaction and grabbed hold of his teammate's arm. Before the shooting guard could shrug him away in protest, Reiko turned from the professor and walked to the board. Seeming oblivious to the debasing comment, she silently took a piece of chalk, raised her arm up against the board and began writing. The students in their seats expressed their shock at the professor's crudity in disapproving mumbles and whispers, and soon all eyes were upon their beautiful classmate, the expression on her face calm and collected. Upon seeing this, Mitsui willed himself to calm down, although he wouldn't have hesitated to pummel his four-eyed professor to the ground were it not for his stretch partner's tolerant reaction.  
  
Reiko could see nothing but numbers float across her mind's eye, each written answer bringing her closer to a memory long buried in the recesses of her consciousness. Not the sneering professor, not the students who sat in their seats mumbling their hopes of getting an A, nothing could distract her from writing. She was in her own world now. She had seen this problem before and in her heart she knew how to solve it, the succession of numbers appearing lucidly in her head. Inside her was a troubling need to remember. Why was it so important for her to recall? She hoped that solving the problem would answer her question. After filling two blackboards with answers, she ran out of chalk. She spied a box of it on the chalk holder of the board adjacent to her and she quietly walked over to it, opened the box and took a chalk piece out. Picking up where she left off, Reiko began to write once more, her classmates observing in silent awe as she wrote line after line of effortless calculations. Off to the side, the men who followed the scrawny professor into the lecture hall frantically wrote down the answers Reiko listed on the board, their pencils scribbling hastily across their clipboards.  
  
Letting himself be pulled by Akagi to the side, Mitsui watched as she momentarily stopped to clutch and rotate her right shoulder. Looking at her other hand, she placed the chalk between her fingers and continued to write with her left hand.  
  
"Hey, I didn't know she was ambidextrous," mumbled Akagi.  
  
The shooting guard recalled the first day he saw her in the annex gym and vividly remembered Coach Sato's surprise when he found out she could hit with her left arm as well. He knew that the intelligence and talent she possessed was beyond anyone's expectations; watching her as he stood, he quietly admitted that she was beyond amazing, and knowing this fact stoked his anger once more at their arrogant professor who smiled sardonically at the answers on the board. The impact of the chalk against the board echoed throughout the lecture hall, it was so quiet; the entire class seemed to hold their breath as Reiko moved onto the last clean blackboard.  
  
She switched hands again, and as she raised her right hand to begin on the last part of the problem, an image of her last childhood instructor flashed before her eyes, her hand gradually lowering to her side with the chalk still in her hand. Her eyes widened at the memory, as if the wind was knocked out of her; in her ears echoed the old instructor's soft-spoken admonishment he gave her so many years ago. Slowly stepping back, she gazed in horror at her handiwork, the chalk in her hand falling to the floor as panic swept over her with a viselike grip. In a blink of an eye, Mitsui was by her side.  
  
His low and soft voice called out to her. "Reiko-san?"  
  
She let her gaze fall to the floor for a moment before turning to the shooting guard, startling him with wraithlike gray eyes that looked as if he was staring into two clear orbs of crystal, their cold and pallid shade resembling a precious diamond, clear and lifeless.  
  
"Mitsui-san." she mumbled, her voice a wavering whisper, "please help me erase what I've written."  
  
Without hesitation, he did just as she had asked, grabbing the eraser and effacing the neatly written answers from everyone's view.  
  
"Hurry," she whispered once more, part in plea and full of urgency. The suited men by the professor gasped in protest as Reiko and Mitsui erased all the boards clean.  
  
"What are you doing?! Finish the problem!" the professor shrieked as he pointed at the board.  
  
Setting the eraser down, Reiko clapped the chalk dust off her hands, her face blank at the instructor's demand.  
  
"It seems that you are right, sir. No man can solve this problem." She turned to her puzzled classmates and bowed before them. "Please accept my apology. I am afraid I am unable to provide you the grade you desire."  
  
"Why are you blowing this chance to give the whole class a perfect grade in this course?" he snapped as he took a step forward.  
  
Mitsui could no longer hold his anger back. "What's it to you, anyway? Why does it matter? You never wanted any of us to pass your class in the first place!" he snapped.  
  
Shouts of agreement roared throughout the lecture hall.  
  
The professor grunted. "Stay out of this, jock."  
  
The whole class booed at their instructor, some throwing balls of paper at the reedy man's direction. Jackson and Miller descended the aisle and escorted Reiko out of the lecture hall, the older guard mumbling words of inquiry and comfort, shooting daggers at the professor as he took one last glance over his shoulder. Oblivious to this scene, Mitsui's fists clenched once more as he yelled at the pouting professor.  
  
"You egotistic asshole! Who died and gave you the right to belittle us?!" Walking over to scrawny man, he calmed himself before he spoke. "You know what? I bet you can't even solve that problem on the board. you're not any better than the rest of us. It's so fucking obvious that you've got an inferiority complex, and it just kills you to be bested by someone much younger and smarter than you, doesn't it? And would you fancy that, by a woman no less! So get off your high horse and shut the hell up before this whole class turns into a raging mob."  
  
Turning around, he exited the lecture hall and his classmates paid him a standing ovation, his teammate trailing right behind him.  
  
Stepping into the hallway, the shooting guard and Akagi found all four guards clustered around Reiko, the volleyball player upset at the recent occurrence. Mitsui wanted to approach and talk to her, but it seemed that she had more than enough people to comfort her. The guards' faces wore a look of worry as they looked back at her, disappointed at the extinguished blue light that shone from her eyes. Jackson stuck his head up from the huddle and motioned Mitsui to walk over.  
  
"Mitsui-san, I have a favor to ask," the burly guard said, his hand resting .  
  
"Is she all right?" he asked, craning his neck over to get another glimpse of his stretch partner.  
  
"The day has been disrupted, and we believe that it's best for her to go home and let things settle. She's strong, I think she'll be fine. Please tell Sato-sensei that she and the rest of us won't be joining the team for practice this afternoon."  
  
"That professor's the lowest piece of shit, I swear," growled Mitsui in a low, feral tone. Pausing to control his anger, he continued. "Will it be all right if I see her later?" the shooting guard inquired, almost pleading.  
  
Casting a glance at her, he heaved a quiet sigh. "Maybe it's better if you called her first."  
  
Nodding at the suggestion, he looked back at her stretch partner whose gaze fell on the marble floor. With Sakai's hand on her shoulder, they led her through the hallway. As they retreated, Reiko turned to look back and saw the concern on her stretch partner's visage, her brow furrowing in silent apology. Her lips moved to form muted words for Mitsui to read.  
  
"I'm sorry." 


	17. Chapter 17

Charging towards the basketball goal, Mitsui exploded and muscled his way past two teammates for a lay-up. His teammates looked at each other in awe and fear; the shooting guard ran across the court like a raging bull, as if nothing else mattered but making the basket. They had never seen him on fire like he was on the court then; he was fueled by something they could not define.  
  
"All right, two-minute water break!"  
  
Preoccupied with plays on his clipboard, Coach Miwa sat on one of the chairs by the sidelines. Most of the players straggled to the water fountain to get a drink, and as they stood in line behind it, an awkward hush fell upon them.  
  
"Hey guys," mumbled Keiichi, "is Mitsui all right?"  
  
"Shit, it's like he's a completely different person. I can't keep up with him today! It's hard to guard somebody when you can't even look into his eyes, he's freakin' scary!" murmured Kazuma as he snuck a glance at the shooting guard chugging water from a water bottle on the sidelines.  
  
After quenching his thirst, Akagi straightened up and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his practice jersey.  
  
"I think he'll be all right. He's just a little angry, that's all."  
  
They all caught their teammate staring angrily into space, his muscled forearm clutching the water bottle in silent fury as his brow furrowed at some agitating thought. Miyagi joined the spectating group and threw in his two cents in a low, hushed voice.  
  
"I feel sorry for the unlucky bastard that pissed him off."  
  
Keiichi swung his head towards the point guard. "What makes you say that?"  
  
After pausing to take a drink, Miyagi looked back at the shooting guard with wary, narrowed eyes.  
  
"Gori and I have known Mitchy since high school. He's a lot nicer now. for him to get worked up like that, the guy must've hit a deep, personal nerve." Miyagi took the bottom half of his practice jersey to wipe the sweat off his face. "I bet it's got something to do with Reiko- san."  
  
Akagi turned to him in surprise. "How did you know?"  
  
The point guard took a deep breath. "If ever a prick managed to talk out of his ass and mentioned Aya-chan's name in the same breath, I'd get just as angry, if not angrier. And the way he's looking right now, he's ready to beat the shit out of that poor schmoe, if he was given the opportunity." Pausing to smirk, Miyagi added, "Believe me, I know."  
  
"Let's go, men! Back on the court!"  
  
  
  
Taking his glasses off, Tak Nakamichi blinked a few times before sitting in front of his computer. Clicking on the blinking 'mail' icon, his eyes scanned the list of new messages on the screen. Seeing the word 'urgent' next to Jackson's cell number, he quickly clicked on the link and read the short message with anxious eyes.  
  
'Nakamichi-dono upset. Vitals yet to be taken. Approaching house now.'  
  
He quickly reached for the phone.  
  
  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, we have arrived," stated Jackson, his voice betraying a worried tone. It took a few seconds for his words to register in her mind, and she slightly shook her head as if waking from a daydream before stepping out of the Suburban. Fuji threw an inquiring glance at Miller who bit his lower lip as he dug his hands in his pockets.  
  
She gave them her thanks, her voice barely above a whisper. They followed her through the front door and made the usual safety check of the huge house, the older guards checking the bedrooms upstairs, Fuji and Miller the rooms downstairs. As they looked for any sign of entry or foreign devices, their heads jerked up at the sound of the phone ringing. Jackson flew down the stairs to find Reiko standing quietly in front of the flat panel screen by the foyer. The hulking guard was relieved that she waited to see who was calling before picking up.  
  
The screen flashed the name 'Dr. Nakamichi' across the panel, and it gave Jackson an even greater sense of relief. By then the rest of the guards returned to the foyer.  
  
Reiko thought she heard Jackson sigh. She forced a faint smile across her lips and nodded their way before pushing the 'transmit' button. Her uncle's face appeared before her.  
  
"Hello, Uncle Tak."  
  
"Hi, Rei. Are you all right?"  
  
She hesitated to answer as she coyly glanced at Jackson and the others.  
  
"I will be fine."  
  
With that they gave a quick bow, and Sakai led the younger guards through the kitchen and out the back door, Jackson trailing behind them.  
  
In the foyer, silence.  
  
Broken.  
  
"Rei, tell me what happened."  
  
Gray sadness crystallized in her eyes as she spoke.  
  
"I did something bad, Uncle Tak. I broke a promise."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I solved the one math problem Kamata-sensei told me never ever to reveal to anyone."  
  
Her uncle paused to think. Kamata.. Kamata..  
  
"He was the old mathematician with the limp, am I correct?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Uncle Tak, I feel awful. I let my curiosity get the better of me. And because of it, every one in class saw it, including the professor and several of men I have never seen before."  
  
The doctor saw the worry on his niece's brow, but he couldn't quite understand the depth of her anxiety.  
  
"Go easy on yourself now. You've worked so many math problems before.... solving them is probably as easy as breathing. Were you meant to remember each math problem and breath you take?"  
  
He watched her overcast eyes glance down guiltily before looking back at the screen.  
  
"No. just this one."  
  
Unease.  
  
"Rei, what did your professor say?"  
  
"He told me to finish the problem."  
  
"So you didn't completely answer it?"  
  
"I got as far as the fourth equation before realizing what I've done."  
  
"Did the professor make any rude comments toward you?"  
  
She looked away before nodding.  
  
Vexed.  
  
Heaving a sigh, he knotted his brow. "How important is this problem?"  
  
"Kamata-sensei passed away before he could demonstrate its implications in his lab... he didn't want anybody else to know," she said, her voice quivering. "Uncle Tak, I don't know how the math professor knew about Kamata-sensei's work.."  
  
"Calm down, dear. I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this." The doctor looked away for a moment, and said, "I need you to take a couple of deep breaths before sending me your vitals. Try to relax, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
He watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath. She wrapped the blood pressure cuff and black elastic band around her arm and forearm and waited for the values to appear on the computer. As the numbers flashed one by one, his jaw clenched in anger at the thought of his niece's genius being exploited by some faceless pencil neck.  
  
  
  
Coach Sato sat in his office chair, staring at the starting line-up he had on his clipboard. His leading player's absence from practice that day threw a kink into his plans that day. Eyeing the names on the sheet one by one, he chewed on the inside of his lip and shook his head slightly. He had relied on Reiko's punctuality and dependability so much that he didn't even think of a back-up plan should she not be there like today. What if it happened on finals day? What if she couldn't make it? He sank back in his seat with a groan.  
  
"Back to the drawing board..." he thought out loud.  
  
In the ladies' locker room, Nanami looked around her. She could feel this aura of uneasiness from the whole team; she noticed that they weren't so vocal on the court during practice that day, like they lost some of their steam. She knew that even Coach Sato detected it. Looking down at her open gym bag, she admitted that the team as a whole had banked all their hopes of winning the championship with Reiko's help. And with their cornerstone gone.... 'It was just one day of practice,' she thought. One day. She'll be all right. Tossing her volleyball shoes in the bag, she zipped it up and slung it on her shoulder.  
  
'I hope she's all right.'  
  
On the way out of the gym, she stopped in her tracks, reached for her cell phone and scrolled to find a number.  
  
  
  
Mitsui yanked his jersey off his back, took off his other garments and wordlessly hit the showers. In the stall next to his was Akagi. Hearing the shooting guard's familiar voice as he groaned under the blasting showerhead, he chanced to ask him how he felt.  
  
"I'm a lot better now. Thanks, Gori."  
  
Akagi smiled at the nickname. At least he was somewhat back to his playful self. And then...  
  
"Man, I wanna beat the shit out of that professor."  
  
Proving Miyagi to be right, the center's face couldn't decide whether to laugh or be cautious. "You'd have to beat Reiko-san's guards to it first," he replied, testing the shooting guard's emotional waters. He eased upon hearing his teammate laugh and sigh.  
  
"You're right."  
  
Seconds passed.  
  
"Do you think she's okay, Akagi?"  
  
"She did look a little shaken, but I think she'll be all right." Turning off the water and toweling himself dry, Akagi thought back to the morning's events. "Something's weird, Mitsui... who were those men with the professor? I've never seen them before."  
  
"Well, they're probably his little minions who idolize him... jackasses," he muttered.  
  
"But if they were his 'minions', we should've seen them tail him around at least once. And today, it's as if he knew that Reiko-san could solve that problem on the board. His reaction when you guys erased the board is proof of that."  
  
After rinsing the suds of soap off, Mitsui finally turned off the water and reached for his towel. "Well... they did look like they were copying down the answers off the board, and I heard them croak in protest when I helped Reiko-san erase the answers.  
  
"I wonder what that problem means," Akagi thought out loud as he weighed himself on the scale just by the shower room.  
  
// It was enough to jolt Reiko that much... // Mitsui was beginning to wonder just how smart his stretch partner was, and the reactions he saw today from her and the professor led him to speculate that they both knew something of great importance beyond his comprehension.  
  
"Gori, can I borrow your cell phone? I need to make a call."  
  
  
  
Reiko slowly ascended the stairs to her bedroom, and each step she took felt like leaden weight pulling on her body. She was tired. She sat on her bed and looked up at the skylight before completely resigning to a supine position, eyes still fixed at the tiny twinkling stars of the night sky. The conversation with her uncle had calmed her much, but her disappointment still weighed her spirits down. Professor Kamata from her childhood had been a wonderful math instructor for her level of intellect. He was the first Japanese professor she had, and the old arthritic man taught all her lessons in his native language which helped her retain her speaking ability in an American environment. Like all her other instructors, he was a very dear man to her; he would tell her stories of his childhood whenever they ended lessons early, stories of mischief, of war, and of his dreams. He taught her much of the Japanese history she knew now, and in turn she answered the last problem of his life's greatest work. Ever since she was able to solve that five-step equation, it was as if a great burden was lifted from his shoulders, and with that he decided that he had taught her all he knew and ended her lessons. Later on she was told that he was sick, with some sort of cold. She remembered going to the hospital to visit him. She remembered his hoarse voice reminding her of their promise. And with a pat on the head, he sent her off to go play and not waste her precious childhood with an old bag like him. Young and playful, she grinned and did as she was told, and the next day she heard that her dear old instructor passed away last night in his sleep. The old man's body succumbed to the pneumonia that claimed his life. Reiko wished she understood his condition then; had she known the situation, she could have spent a little more time with her ailing instructor. The least she could have done was keep the pact between them, and even that she wasn't able to do. She shut her eyes in guilt.  
  
A beep from the intercom made her head turn.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, would you like to have dinner delivered here tonight?" asked Jackson's bass voice.  
  
She hesitated for a moment before getting up to press the button on the intercom unit. "Please tell Yoshi-san to send four dinners. My appetite seems to have abandoned me this evening."  
  
All four guards looked at each other as they sat in the kitchen of the servants' house. Jackson shot Sakai an inquiring look, and his partner just nodded.  
  
"Very well, then."  
  
When she thought he was finished, Jackson's voice echoed again. "If you need us to get you anything, Nakamichi-dono, please don't hesitate to ask."  
  
She smiled faintly at the offer. Pressing the button, she replied, "Thank you, Mr. Jackson. Perhaps my appetite will find its way to my stomach later tonight."  
  
Jackson backed away from the intercom and took a mug from the cabinet above the kitchen countertop. Measuring several tablespoons of coffee, he poured the dark grainy powder into the coffee filter and turned the pot on. Fuji sat back in his chair and looked at Miller who was on the phone with the old man Yoshi. Sakai grabbed a mug from the cabinet and stood next to Jackson as he looked outside the window by the sink.  
  
"Please ask him to send five boxed dinners anyway," Sakai said as he watched the coffee percolate through the drip hole. "And some grapes, if he could."  
  
Miller dictated just as the older guard had said, and when he hung up the phone, Fuji asked why the grapes.  
  
"Her favorite fruit," he said.  
  
Jackson smirked at his reply. Taking a seat by the dinner table, he cracked a few knuckles on one hand before calling the guards' attention. "That math teacher just pushed all sorts of buttons on me. Miller, find out who he is. I want to know more about this bastard... what other companies he's worked for, what he eats for breakfast, what size shoe he wears. Find out everything. Fuji, check out our guns and ammo. Make sure that the batteries for the sat phone are charged, as well as our two-way radios." The bulky guard got up from his seat, poured himself and Sakai a cup of coffee and took a sip. "Sakai and I will go to the garage and check on the Suburban."  
  
With that, the four men dispersed from the kitchen and went their separate ways.  
  
Following Sakai to the garage, Jackson reached for the vibrating cell phone by his hip and answered.  
  
"This is Jackson... Yes... We've got it covered, sir... We will."  
  
Grabbing a toolbox from the garage, Sakai bent down to check the chassis of the vehicle with a mirror. Noting no suspicious objects, he proceeded to pop the hood of the Suburban open. Lifting the hood stand and putting it in place, he checked the oil level and the engine.  
  
"That was Dr. Nakamichi," stated Jackson, checking the air pressure of the tires.  
  
Sakai grunted knowingly.  
  
"Do you think she should play tomorrow, Sakai?"  
  
His partner shrugged. "Are you getting another one of your gut feelings?"  
  
"I'm afraid so."  
  
"And what is it telling you?"  
  
"That we shouldn't be in that gym."  
  
His words made Sakai pause for thought.  
  
"Do you think she'll see it our way?"  
  
"Well... it's really her call. We agreed from the beginning that we would support her decision to play, and we need to stick to it. All we can do now is be prepared." Jackson reached for his vibrating phone again, holding his index finger up for Sakai to pause conversation.  
  
"This is Jackson... Hello, Mitsui-san..."  
  
Sakai grinned as he searched the toolbox for a mini Maglite.  
  
"She'll be fine, I'm sure... I don't know if it's too soon... Wait, where are you?... Maybe it's not such a bad idea. Meet me at Yoshi's restaurant in half an hour."  
  
His colleague peered from the front of the car. "What are you up to, Jackson?"  
  
He shrugged and laughed. "Old man Yoshi has a new delivery boy on staff."  
  
Arching his brow in jest, an impish grin plastered Sakai's face. "Oh? And who might that be?"  
  
Jackson chuckled. "As soon as we finish our checks, I'll take you to see him."  
  
They kept the grin on their faces as they finished inspecting the exterior of the vehicle. Finding everything in order, they proceeded to check the interior panels of the Suburban, folding the back seats down and pressing several hidden buttons under the seats to reveal two 15-inch flat screen panels. Two keyboards detached underneath them, and a black box slid out from beneath the floor board, just above the first aid kit that was attached to the mesh interior with Velcro. Manning each computer, Jackson and Sakai performed several scans that checked the vehicle's circuitry, communications link and the computers themselves. Seeing the words 'clear' scroll up the screen, they stowed the equipment away and returned the seats in the upright position. Jackson took the driver's seat, and he waited for Sakai to strap himself in before driving off. As they left the estate, Jackson tossed his cell phone over to his partner.  
  
"Please tell Fuji and Miller to call ahead and tell Yoshi that we'll be picking up the dinners ourselves."  
  
  
  
They found Mitsui engaged in conversation with the old proprietor. Raising his head, Yoshi motioned for the two older guards to take the seats next to them, hailing a waiter to prepare some tea for them. Within seconds the teapot and cups arrived, and the old man poured each bodyguard a steaming serving of roasted green tea. Asking the waiter to bring out the orders, Yoshi watched the two greet the shooting guard with a handshake before taking quick sips of their tea.  
  
"Collegiate basketball is one of the two favorite topics my waiters are buzzing about, gentlemen," the old man said, garnering a grin from the shooting guard.  
  
"What's the other?" asked Sakai after taking another sip.  
  
"I think you already know the other topic," the old man answered, winking at the three men smiling before him. Watching the steam rise from their teacups, Yoshi cleared his throat. "Is Nakamichi-dono all right? She usually dines with all of you here.... even Fuji and Miller are gone."  
  
Jackson saw Sakai's and Mitsui's head turn to his direction.  
  
"She's got a few things on her mind..." trailed the bulky guard, taking a sip of his tea.  
  
The old man sighed. "Well, my waiters sure miss her fingers on the piano keys... You know, you men didn't have to trouble yourselves with picking the order up. I could have sent Takumi-kun to deliver the dinners."  
  
"Well," Jackson said as he swirled the tea in his cup, "it's only fair to show your new delivery man the ropes."  
  
"What? I don't think I hired a delivery man recently -"  
  
Jackson slapped his large hand against Mitsui's shoulder. "Well, this one's only temporary, Yoshi-san."  
  
For a moment the old man's eyes widened and he chuckled at the suggestion. "All right, then. Teach him well, Mr. Jackson."  
  
The guard gave him a knowing grin and Sakai rarely saw his partner's eyes shine with mischief. All that time, the shooting guard blinked in confusion at the idea of him delivering food. Thanking them for the tea, they took their leave and Jackson motioned Mitsui to follow them to the Suburban. Getting in, they strapped themselves and sped off.  
  
  
  
Phone ringing.  
  
Deep breath.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hello, may I speak to Akagi Takenori, please?"  
  
"This is he speaking.... Nanami-chan?"  
  
"Hi, Akagi-kun, how's it going?"  
  
Panic.  
  
"I-it's so-so..."  
  
"Um... listen. The reason I'm calling is because I want to know if you knew anything about Reiko-chan not showing up for practice. I called Ayako-chan earlier to get Mi-chan's cell number, but she told me he didn't have one. She gave me yours instead."  
  
"Oh..."  
  
"So... did anything bad happen? Is she all right?"  
  
"Well... "  
  
And so the blushing center told Nanami about what happened that morning. The setter found herself getting angry at the math professor, blaming him for ruining everybody's mood that day. She raised her brows after Akagi said that the shooting guard told their professor off and walked out of the lecture hall.  
  
"Really? You're kidding!"  
  
"No, I'm not. I thought at one point he was going to pound the guy through the floor, and I kind of had to hold him back. But after telling the bastard off, he walked off and the whole class gave him a standing ovation as he left."  
  
"Wow, I didn't know Mi-chan had nerves of steel."  
  
"Tell me about it. The guys on the team were afraid to even look at him, let alone play against him during practice. That professor should've never raised his voice at Reiko-san... it's really no big deal if she didn't solve the problem on the board. She's already helped everyone in class more than that nerd has in a whole semester. It's as if the guy was baiting her to solve the problem... and I think Mitsui's right. Even the professor himself can't solve the problem, and he took the chance that someone else would." Akagi paused to think before continuing. "I think he knew that she could solve the problem all along.... that spineless man's up to no good, I just know it."  
  
He heard her groan on the other line. "Sato-sensei looked a little worried during practice today after Mi-chan stopped by to tell him Reiko wasn't coming. I think the whole team is worried as well..."  
  
"Are you worried?"  
  
Pause.  
  
"I try not to be."  
  
Akagi looked down on the floor and searched for some comforting words to say.  
  
"I just want to know if she'll be playing with us tomorrow night," she continued, a hint of childish hope in her voice.  
  
"I'm sure she will, Nanami-san," his deep voice reassuring.  
  
"What about you, Akagi-san, are you worried about your finals on Sunday?"  
  
"I think we'll be all right," he answered, smiling at her question. "And after seeing Mitsui play like he did today in practice, I think we should do just fine."  
  
"Our whole team will be rooting for you. I wish you the best of luck, Akagi-san."  
  
"Thanks, and I wish you luck for tomorrow as well, Nanami-san."  
  
The line was silent for a few seconds, both reddening at each other's words.  
  
"Oh, you know what? Mitsui borrowed my phone earlier, I think the number he dialed is still on here. Hold on, okay?"  
  
The center looked at all the dialed calls on his phone and scrolled down to the most recent one. "Nanami-san, I've got it. Do you have a pen handy?"  
  
  
  
"It's good that you're wearing a cap tonight, Mitsui-san," smirked Jackson as he spoke over his shoulder.  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"I want you to really look the part," he said, making Sakai laugh quietly in the front passenger seat.  
  
Mitsui smiled at the guard's comment as the vehicle pulled into the estate's driveway and parked. Sakai got out first and took four of the dinners with him, telling the shooting guard to do his job well. With a grin, Sakai left the two by the Suburban. Jackson turned to Mitsui.  
  
"I'll take you to the front door."  
  
Placing the fifth dinner in the shooting guard's hands, Jackson led him up the cobblestone walkway and stopped at the doorstep.  
  
"Mitsui-san, I know you want to see her badly. Am I right?"  
  
"Yes," he answered in a heartbeat.  
  
"I decided to bring you here because I know you can cheer her up. You seem to do a good job at doing that."  
  
Mitsui unconsciously reached for the back of his head. Jackson laughed.  
  
"Well, delivering her dinner is your immediate job right now, so do it well. Please make sure she eats, even if it's just a little. She's going to need the energy for tomorrow's game. Go ahead and ring the bell. I'll tell her it's okay to answer the door."  
  
Mitsui did as he was told, unsure of just how he would react when she answers the door, but the shooting guard was elated nonetheless that he'll be seeing his stretch partner that evening, even if he was a little dumbfounded at the whole idea. Jackson pressed the button of the intercom and glanced at the shooting guard as he spoke into it.  
  
"It's only the delivery man, Nakamichi-dono. It's all right to answer the door."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson."  
  
Hearing her voice through the black box on the wall made him smile, and the thumbs-up that Jackson gave him as he walked off made his smile grow even bigger. The shooting guard stared at the French door for a moment, discerning a moving shadow behind it that got closer and closer. Grabbing the bill of his baseball cap, he made sure it fit snugly and looked down at the door mat beneath his feet. The door swung open.  
  
"Thank you for bringing the dinners, Taku-" Reiko gasped. "Mitsui- san!"  
  
He grinned as he handed her the packaged meal, delighted at the blue glints that surfaced from the gray depths of her eyes as she blinked at him in surprise.  
  
"It looks like I've found another part-time job, Reiko-san," he said, his hands finding their way into his jean pockets.  
  
She laughed. "So it seems." She fully opened the door. "Please come in, Mitsui-san."  
  
Stepping over the threshold, the shooting guard took his cap off, his eyes immediately scanning the enormity of the house, its vastness always awed him. He often wondered how his stretch partner was able to live alone in such big residence. He returned his gaze to her. // She's a sight for sore eyes... // Opening the paper bag, she saw a smaller box with the packaged dinner and took it out of the bag first.  
  
"What's this?" she thought out loud.  
  
Mitsui craned his head a bit as she opened the box that revealed big succulent grapes still attached to part of a vine. She smiled.  
  
"Grapes... I wasn't even planning on eating tonight."  
  
"Your men must care about you a lot."  
  
She continued to smile. "I bet they sent you here with the food."  
  
The shooting guard had to look away to hide his flushed face. "I guess," he mumbled, the boyish habit of his hand behind his head nearly making her laugh. He remembered what Jackson told him. "It's not good to skip meals, Reiko-san. It's better if you ate."  
  
She stared at the box of food. Yoshi had baked some big pieces of baked salmon for her, with angel hair pasta and capers on the side. She thought back to her stretch partners words. Her men really were thoughtful, and she was beginning to see how they were subtly trying to cheer her up. The gray hardness in her eyes softened. Reiko took two plates from the cupboard and divided the food into two servings onto the plates. Mitsui watched in amusement.  
  
"What's the other plate for?" he asked.  
  
"It's only polite to offer a guest something to eat," she stated quietly, placing the capers artfully on the pasta as she had seen the chefs at Yoshi's restaurant do. "Have you eaten dinner yet, Mitsui-san?"  
  
The shooting guard shook his head. "I didn't have much of an appetite earlier."  
  
"I see..." she trailed off, taking a dinner knife and fork from the cutlery drawer to slice a piece of salmon. Placing the piece on the fork, she held it out at the somewhat surprised shooting guard. Wordlessly, he moved to her side, received her offering and took the bite, the tender texture of the meat against his palate mingling with the mixture of seasonings that made his mouth water for more. Reiko watched as he chewed silently, his gaze locking onto hers. "How about now?" she asked, setting the fork down.  
  
He could only nod as he watched her casually turn to peel a grape over the sink before biting into it. He spied the corner of her mouth spilling a drop of juice that trailed down to her jaw and she wiped it away with the pad of her thumb, the act stoking a feral fire that burned his insides. She had no clue that the little innocuous things she did pushed him to his limits of decency. // What I would give for my lips to be that piece of fruit... //  
  
"Would you mind eating half of my dinner, Mitsui-san?" she asked, her face turning slightly towards him.  
  
Snapping out of his reverie, he chuckled. "Won't you need all of it for your game tomorrow?"  
  
She took another fork and knife out of the cabinet. "Well, I only have half of my appetite to begin with, and I can only eat half of this dinner. And it seems that you now found the other half of my appetite, so it's only logical that you eat the remaining half." Reiko cast a knowing glance at her stretch partner, quickly retracting her gaze to peel another grape. The scene struck a funny cord within him. The look told him that with her logic, the argument had already been won before it began and there was no room left for him to reason. He grinned.  
  
"I'm sorry about what happened today, Mitsui-san," said, her gaze lowering and her voice just above a whisper.  
  
"For what?" he asked, slightly lowering his head and trying to peer into her downcast gray eyes.  
  
"I could not give you the A for your final grade."  
  
"That doesn't matter to me. What matters to me is that you're respected, and that lousy professor didn't have that concept down."  
  
Reiko looked up at him and noted a tinge of bitterness in his deep voice.  
  
"That professor sucks, anyway. I hate men with no respect for women."  
  
Reminded of the broken promise, she silently looked down at the two plates she prepared, and Mitsui felt guilty for reminding her of the incident that morning. "Hey, I'm sorry I brought it up. I can be so insensitive sometimes."  
  
"Oh, no... I - I just was not prepared for something like that to happen." She paused for a second before turning around to take two glasses out of the overhead cabinets. "Perhaps we should postpone this topic of conversation, Mitsui-san, before we completely ruin our appetites."  
  
Mitsui heard the uncertainty in her voice, and he agreed to the idea. Looking at the plates of food, he thought of something distracting to say. "Wow, I didn't know that being a delivery boy meant being fed as well."  
  
Not expecting that response from him, her soft laughter rang throughout the kitchen, something he was surprised to hear. He found himself contented with the way he was carrying himself after what happened earlier in the day; he was unsure of how seeing her crestfallen would affect him, he was even a little afraid that he wouldn't be able to get a smile out of her. He understood. All he had to do was be the man he promised to be there for her.  
  
Taking the glasses of orange juice with her to the dining room, Mitsui followed, taking care not to let the salmon pieces slide on the beds of pasta. "Whenever Yoshi-san sends our orders, he usually makes Takumi- san deliver them."  
  
"Good thing you didn't mistake me for him," he said, winking at a wide-eyed Reiko.  
  
"It's difficult not to... you and he are marginally different," she said, placing a dinner napkin on her lap.  
  
"Really... I'm intrigued. Tell me how," he egged on, leaning forward as he mimicked her move.  
  
"Well..." she let her gaze fall on the glass of orange juice next to her plate. "You're much bigger in stature than Takumi-san. He is a person of few words, and he doesn't have that glint in your eyes whenever he talks to me."  
  
The shooting guard playfully arched a brow. "What glint in my eyes?"  
  
Giggling, she replied. "That glint that gives me a reserved impression."  
  
"Huh? I'm afraid I don't understand."  
  
Stifling a laugh, she leaned back in her seat. "I feel like you have something more to say to me whenever you look at me the way you do."  
  
// God, do I ever... // He decided to play along. "Well, maybe I do have something more to say."  
  
"And what would that be?"  
  
He turned his nose up as he closed his eyes in mock arrogance. "That's for me to know and you to find out." She laughed once more as she picked up her fork, both of them digging into their shared meals. Careful to avoid talking of what happened that morning, the shooting guard asked if she would play tomorrow, for Coach Sato looked quite distressed when he told him his stretch partner wasn't coming to practice. She nodded her head.  
  
"Please remind me to call Sato-sensei. There's no excuse for missing practice.... do you think I'll be reprimanded?"  
  
Mitsui laughed. "By him? After relentlessly begging you to be on the team, I don't think that'll happen. He'll be more relieved than angry if you called." // Just like I was to see you, // he added silently.  
  
There was a bout of silence before either of them spoke, ruminating of what to say next as they consumed their dinner. Both turned their heads at the sound of the phone ringing, and she excused herself to go to the foyer. On the flat screen flashed the caller's name and number.  
  
'Ueno Nanami 357-1590'  
  
She picked up the cordless phone. "Hello, Nanami-san... Mr. Jackson did? Oh, good..." She walked back towards the dining room. "Yes, I feel much better about it now, thank you. Oh, Mitsui-san came to visit. He is here now."  
  
At the other end of the line, Nanami was grinning.  
  
"I'm sorry for missing practice, Nanami-san... Yes, I'll be there tomorrow. Where and what time do we meet?... Very well... Oh, sure..."  
  
Reiko handed over the phone to the shooting guard. "She would like a word with you." As he took the phone, she took the plates and silverware to the kitchen.  
  
"Hello?" he answered.  
  
"Mi-chan! I'm so glad you're there..." she teased, the tone of her voice taunting.  
  
His face reddening, he replied, "Did you call just to harass me?"  
  
The setter laughed at his irritation, seeing his annoyed face in her mind's eye. "No, I just wanted to check up on your progress."  
  
"With what?" he stammered.  
  
"With her."  
  
"Nanami-chan," he whined, his embarrassed reply making her laugh.  
  
"All right, all right, I'll let you go. Hey, Mi-chan? Akagi-kun told me what happened. I'm glad you stood up for her. You're a real sweetheart."  
  
He looked down at the floor, the habit of his hand reaching for the back of his head returning. "Thanks. By the way, how did you get this number?"  
  
"Akagi-kun gave me the number you dialed on his cell phone, and it turned out to be Jackson-san's number. In turn he gave me Reiko-chan's number, and here I am talking to you."  
  
"Akagi, huh?" The shooting guard impishly grinned. "So what else did you guys talk about?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, n-nothing, really..."  
  
It was Mitsui's turn to laugh. "Akagi's got a crush on somebody... I'm pretty sure you already know who it is, right?"  
  
Silence.  
  
Seeing Reiko emerge from the kitchen, he straightened up. "Here, let me hand the phone over to Reiko-san," he said as he did just that. Her stretch partner listened and watched as she reassured her teammate she was fine and that she was looking forward to tomorrow's game. Bidding her goodnight, she hung up. "What do you suggest we do now, Mitsui-san?" she asked.  
  
They ended up in the living room. With pillows strewn across the Persian rug, they lazily sprawled out on their abdomens side by side like a couple of kids, looking at a photo album she took from underneath the coffee table. She was much younger in the photos, and most of them included her old instructors. He noticed that none of her family members he saw in her room were in it. She briefly recounted the lessons she learned from each pictured instructor, and when they flipped through the last page, she looked at the remaining pictures in silence. She placed her chin on her forearms which were propped up by a pillow and finally allowing her head to rest on one side.  
  
"This was my math instructor, Kamata-sensei."  
  
Mitsui watched as she looked at the last photograph of her and the old man with a cane, both smiling happily. He made the connection that what happened earlier that morning had something to do with this old man; the somber look in her eyes was enough to give it away. He closed the photo album and put it back under the coffee table, her prone form staying still and her eyes glassy with nostalgia as she stared blankly ahead. Quietly, he mimicked her posture and waited quietly for her to speak. A minute passed by in silence.  
  
"He was the last of my instructors to pass away," she uttered indistinctly, her voice so faint that he had to inch closer just to hear her. "He taught me everything I know about math past calculus..." she trailed off, her thoughts far away. "I miss him..." She closed her eyes for a moment and let a small sigh. "I miss them all."  
  
The shooting guard chose to remain quiet for fear of uttering a word that might reveal his knowledge of her family; he assumed that 'all' included her deceased parents and siblings as well. A wave of sympathy washed over him, and he reprimanded himself for feeling sorry for her, for having to grow up alone and in isolation, for being under constant supervision for knowing too much. And yet still he couldn't suppress the pity that swelled in his chest. He let his arm drape across her back and his hand gently tapped her shoulder, hoping he could give some sort of consolation. With a faint smile, she turned to look at him briefly only to return to gaze ahead of her, words escaping them as they remained prone, looking ahead in silence.  
  
"Thank you for being here, Mitsui-san," she finally mumbled, her fingers finding the warm hand that tapped her shoulder. "I find it a little easier to cope with this morning's mishap with you here."  
  
He smiled as he turned her head to look at her. "I'm glad I could be of some help, Reiko-san," he whispered.  
  
And so they remained, their forms lying still on the floor as they took solace in each other's silence.  
  
  
  
Volleyball finals in the Kanagawa Arena. The place was packed, and outside the ticket booths was a sign printed in big bold letters: 'sold out'. The spectators filled the elliptical arena with noisy chatter as they waited for the teams to come out of the locker rooms. Sportscasters had their booths set up and their camera men were standing by as they did their sound checks for the microphones. On one side of the wooden court was the officials' table, and immediately behind it was a table for the press with telephones that lined the edge. It was so noisy that Coach Sato couldn't hear himself talk to one of the officials; he was practically yelling into his ear. It was thirty minutes before starting time, and he tried to hide his nervousness by looking at the player roster his metal clipboard one more time. This was it. This was the day he thought would never come. His team at long last made it to the finals, and his pulse raced at the realization as the noisy sold-out crowd drove it home. He knew they were the underdogs, but his team managed to get this far, and they had earned every right to be there. His girls had toiled and persevered through a lot, and briefly glancing at his watch, he took comfort in knowing that their performance on the court will be their absolute best. He was able to find his sleep after receiving a reassuring phone call from Reiko that she will be showing up for today's game, and his wife was so thankful for it.  
  
Coach Sato spied Mitsui and Jackson momentarily talking to Sakai before the smaller guard walked off. They were dressed in the same black suits as when he first met them, and he saw Miller hand over a two-way radio to Fuji before they parted their ways, one joining Sakai on the upper level, the other remaining on court level with Jackson on the opposite side of the court. The coach never really asked why she had to be guarded or wondered its importance, but he knew that with a crowd like this, their job would be increasingly difficult. He didn't want his blue chip player to feel unsafe even though he never really got this impression from her. He tried not to think more of it. The guards were doing their job, he was doing his job, and now it's time for the girls to do theirs. He looked back at Mitsui who was engaged in conversation with the brawny bodyguard.  
  
Twenty minutes before the court-deciding coin toss. After shrugging out of their warm-ups, Coach Sato's team huddled in the guest locker room, their faces smiling in excitement despite the palpable apprehension in the air. Nanami got their attention.  
  
"All right, ladies, listen up. This is it. The moment we've been waiting for." The setter motioned for them to cling to each other in a circle, their heads bowed down. Reiko imitated their move. "And now, a moment of prayer. Miki-chan, please do honors."  
  
"All right." She closed her eyes and they all did the same as she spoke. "Dear Lord, our sweat and determination along with Your great help have brought us here today... thank you for our past victories and for giving us this opportunity to prove ourselves worthy of a championship title... we humbly pray that You deliver our opponents into our hands with the strength of a thousand Reikos..."  
  
They all stifled their laughter to let their teammate finish her odd but earnest prayer despite its wording.  
  
"... We pray that You grant us the strength to endure what lies ahead of us now... please forgive us for the many pranks we've committed against our coach... and we thank You from the bottom of our hearts for granting us a kind and pretty weapon to annihilate our enemies. We cannot thank You enough for Reiko, Lord, and we know that we will forge a path and a name for ourselves and our team with Your help. Thank You for believing in us, and we truly believe in You. All these things we pray in Your name, amen."  
  
"Amen," they echoed. As they straightened up, they continued to hold each other in the circle. Once more Nanami took command.  
  
"Ladies, it's all or nothing. We've come this far. Let's talk out there. There is to be no finger-pointing. There is no 'I' or 'you' in the word 'team'. The points we gain we make as a team, understood?"  
  
The team affirmed with a resounding 'yes'.  
  
"Then let's get out there and show them what we're made of!"  
  
The ladies roared in enthusiasm and headed for the locker room door. As they exited the room, they were met with yells and cheers from the crowd. They saw the other team who already stood on the back line, eyeing them in scrutiny. As they filed on the line, Miki said in a voice loud enough for her teammates to hear, "Let's kick some ass!"  
  
The team captains of the opposing teams met at the top umpire's post, bowing to each other and to the top official. He took out a coin and the captains called out a side of the coin.  
  
"Tails," Nanami said as she and the other captain watched the coin flip in mid-air before landing on the wooden floor. They moved away to give it space to freely move, and the coin spun on its edge before falling to one side.  
  
Tails.  
  
Nanami took it as an omen and she grinned from ear to ear. She opted to take serve and the other girl chose which side of the court to take. The team captains bowing once more to each other, the top official climbed up to the pole and signaled for the teams to meet in the middle with the swaying arc of his arms. The setter watched as her teammates ran along the borders of the volleyball court and finally towards her along the net. In a show of sportsmanship, they all bowed to each other before hustling back to their coaches on either side of the court. Already the crowd cheered for the teams, and in the stands they could hear some very loud yelling from a familiar group of people. The basketball team showed up, their voices booming out cheers for the Coach Sato's team. Next to the large center sat his little sister Haruko and a pair of two very tall individuals, one with red hair and the other with black, and beside the two were Ayako and Miyagi. Yohei and the rest of the Sakuragi Gundan also showed up for the final match, their raucous presence making the spectators around them laugh. On the sidelines, Coach Sato briefed the ladies on some of the plays they ran in practice, and with that he stuck his palm out for the girls to pile theirs on.  
  
"All right, ladies. Show them what you've got. Team on three. One, two, three -"  
  
"Team!"  
  
Coach Sato kept the same line-up as before, letting Reiko sit on the bench to let her soak in the opponents' weaknesses. Kaname was first up to serve, and as the lineman on the corner of the court bounced the ball to her, Nanami called out to her. "Kaname-chan, winners strike first, so strike hard!"  
  
Nodding with a grin, she stood several feet away from the baseline. At blow of the whistle, she threw the ball up and jumped to meet it in the air, the ball spinning with great speed as it hurtled over the net at the receiving opponents. Their first attempt on a kill ended in the net, and the starting six ran to huddle in the middle of their court, their white uniforms and matching golden ribbons in their hair shining under the bright halogen lights. Keiichi and Kazuma of the basketball team shouted vigorously at the scored point, and the rest of them stood to clap. Kaname briefly smiled before concentrating on her next serve.  
  
On the bench, Mitsui sat next to Coach Sato and helped mark down the stats. He couldn't resist glancing sideways at Reiko, her demeanor cool and collected as she watched the ball with analyzing eyes. She caught him looking at her and she flashed him a quick smile before looking back on the opponents' side of the court. The shooting guard grinned as he looked down at the stat sheet. The volleyball coach sighed.  
  
"You two are way too cute, looking at each other like that," Coach Sato mumbled in Mitsui's ear. "It makes my teeth hurt."  
  
The shooting guard let out a chuckle. He heard Miki and Sayuri call out sets and Nanami set the ball behind her, letting Sayuri pound the ball past the block, the ball hitting the sideline. Another point. The team managed to keep the score going until a player on the other team was subbed out and a rather manly girl stepped in to play for her. The girls on either side of Reiko looked at each other warily; the player looked like she was on steroids. They lost possession of the ball after the other team bounced a hit off Sayuri and Miki's block, sending the ball sailing into the stands. Now on the serve-receiving end, they could not get past their block, and each time ball was set to the masculine girl who pounded the ball at their defense like they were one of Reiko's bodyguards. Coach Sato remained still in his seat, his mind occupied with defense tactics. This was the other team's hitter that he had heard so much about. He grimaced as he looked at her face; she wasn't as nice to look at as the girls on his team. He chided himself for thinking of such a trivial thing at a time like this. Ounce for ounce, she was much bulkier than the rest of his team as well as the opponents' team. He wondered if they had done some steroidal testing on her.  
  
  
  
Dr. Tak Nakamichi leaned back in his swivel chair as he watched the volleyball match on the television, quickly scribbling on a post-it note to thank his secretary for getting cable subscription for his office. Reaching for his coffee mug, he took a sip before looking at the wall clock. He had been in the hospital for three straight nights, and the couch in his office doubled as his bed while he was on-call. The emergency room was unusually quiet, and so far no one paged for him to rush to the surgery room. For that, he was thankful.  
  
Seeing his niece's team defend their court with difficulty, he leaned his elbow on the arm of his chair and cradled his head in his hand as he smiled.  
  
"It's time to send Rei in, coach."  
  
  
  
They lost the first game. Nanami and the others thanked their teammates who gave up their seats on the bench for them to sit and listen to their coach, the starting six a little winded from the intense play. Mitsui handed them some towels and water bottles so they could cool off. After pointing out some holes in their defense, he sent them back on the court, still keeping his blue chip player on the bench. While they waited for the other team to get onto the court, the shooting guard's eyes scanned the crowd in the stands. He smiled as he saw the basketball team howling madly by the railing with Coach Miwa and his wife sitting beside a more behaved Akagi. His eyes widened at the sight of Rukawa, Haruko and Hanamichi cheering, and he inwardly laughed at the redhead's amusing taunts he yelled at the opposing team. He spotted Sakai to the very far left, and turning around he saw Fuji casually looking at the crowd in the upper level, occasionally talking into his two-way radio. Not too far behind the shooting guard stood Jackson on court level, his face stern as he constantly looked into the crowd. His conversation earlier with the brawny guard made him worry a little. It was true that the arena had enough security guards, but with so many people, he understood the concern underlying Jackson's foreboding. Mitsui looked back at the court and marked down each pass, set and hit as the girls vied for points. The other team held them down at 16 as they climbed their way up to end the second game with 30 unanswered points.  
  
The starting six hurriedly sat on the bench and paid attention to their surprisingly calm coach. He drew several circles on his clipboard and pointed to opposite court's left corner. "You don't have to pound at the ball every time, ladies. Be smart. This spot is always open, and it's difficult for them to cover it because the setter comes out from left."  
  
Once more, they stepped onto the court with determination, Nanami's words reinforcing their moral fiber. "Take it one point at a time, ladies!"  
  
Coach Sato sank in his seat and mumbled something in Mitsui's ear. Nodding, he got up and quietly asked the rest of the team on the bench to follow him out into the hallway, Jackson trailing behind them. The crowd was abuzz with speculation as they watched Mitsui lead the girls out of the arena, and in the stands Coach Miwa sat quietly as he tried to figure out what his colleague was planning.  
  
Once in the hallway, Mitsui told the rest of the team that Coach Sato just wanted to distract their opponents. Laughing, the girls nodded as they recalled this happening once before during a tournament.  
  
"Okay, I think it's okay to go back in now," the shooting guard said. Giving them each a high-five, they filed into the arena again, Mitsui staying Reiko behind as she tailed the others. She blinked at the warm hand on her shoulder. "Reiko-san, he told me to help you warm up."  
  
Quickly glancing at Jackson, she smiled her stretch partner as they walked down the hall where several security guards stood not too far away.  
  
"I don't know how I'm supposed to help you warm up, but -"  
  
"Talking to me will suffice, Mitsui-san." She looked around her. "And besides, there is no net to practice blocking."  
  
They smiled at each other quietly.  
  
"Nervous?" he asked.  
  
"A little," she replied. Looking over Mitsui's muscled shoulder, she watched as Jackson spoke into the two-way radio. "Mitsui-san, Mr. Jackson is quite uneasy with me playing before a large crowd like this."  
  
"I know, he told me," he said, trying not to look behind him. "But I think you'll be fine with five people watching over you."  
  
Her head tilted in inquiry. "Five?"  
  
Mitsui laughed. "You're looking at the fifth one."  
  
Her eyes waxed blue at the realization and she let out a giggle. "In that case, Mitsui-san, I better show you how my guards and I communicate without words." She gently tapped on her sternum with her slender index finger, tapping at the corner of her eye twice and finally pointing to her stretch partner.  
  
"What does that mean?" he inquired, his interest peaked.  
  
"I see you."  
  
"Oh." He laughed at the simple meaning behind it, a little embarrassed that he didn't figure it out for himself. She taught him the alphabet in sign language, and the shooting guard learned it on the first attempt.  
  
Complimenting him for learning so quickly, she let him take her by the hand and usher her back into the arena, Jackson following the stretch partners as they made their way to the bench.  
  
"Reiko-san, after this next point, kindly sub in for Kaname-chan," Coach Sato said, his eyes fixed at the vigorous play that ensued.  
  
She nodded and went to the officials' table to inform them of the switch. After the other team scored a point, Coach Sato signaled for a substitution. As she approached the sideline, Coach Sato called out to her. "Go get 'em, Reiko-san."  
  
Kaname hurried to meet Reiko at the sideline, her teammate holding her hands up for high-fives and winking as she walked off the court. At this point, half of the spectators stood in their seats and filled the arena with thunderous applause. Barely hearing her name from the bench, she quickly turned to see Mitsui, his hand signing a message. After tapping his chest, he held his hand up spell a word in sign. Jackson blinked as he observed the silent exchange between the stretch partners. His eyes widened as he read the shooting guard's signal. L-o-v-e. He then pointed to her, Reiko's cheeks blushing furiously as she averted her gaze to the serving player. The brawny guard grinned. Mitsui had guts, and he liked him even more for that.  
  
The tide turned for Coach Sato's team as Reiko led her teammates to tie their opponents at 15. The coach grinned at his blue chip player as she defied gravity to deliver a smashing hit at their opponents, the defensive players on the opposite court flinching as the ball bounced off the wooden court. Photographers on the sidelines and the back of the court scurried to get shots of her. The manly girl on the other team threw daggers with her eyes at an oblivious Reiko, getting angrier at the fact that she didn't catch her glare as Reiko met her teammates in the middle of the court for high-fives.  
  
Mitsui had a smile that stretched from ear to ear as he watched his unruffled stretch partner effortlessly pile the points across the scoreboard. The crowd was on their feet and wild with applause, and when the opposing team's coach called for a time-out, the crowd became even louder. As they walked off the court, the shooting guard caught Reiko's azure gaze and watched as she signed back. I-k-n-o-w. Standing by the end of the bench, she listened as Coach Sato encouraged them to keep the offense going, giving Nanami and the others a pat on the back. Jackson approached Reiko with a bottle of water and spoke into the two-way radio as she drank from it. He stepped away as he saw Mitsui walk towards them, giving the two enough distance for a private conversation.  
  
Coach Sato's team won the third and fourth games, and at the beginning of the fifth and final game the other team's coach was yelling in frustration at his team. Coach Sato sat quietly in his seat, watching his girls' reaction to the ball and to each other. Nanami's setting intuition got better and better and the sets she gave her hitters were delivered with accuracy and precision. He felt like he lucked out on getting a setter like her to join the team. She made coaching easier for him; as team captain, she tied down the loose ends that he couldn't get to when it came to managing the girls. He was so proud of her and of the rest of the team. Their level of play reached a level above and beyond his expectations, all because of the presence of one player on the team. It never ceased to awe him whenever Reiko approached and jumped to meet the ball in the air. It was as if she floated right before his eyes, and she reminded him of the nimble ballet dancers his wife made him watch for their fifth anniversary. She was too good to be true; God must have gotten tired of hearing the same prayer from him every night of his life and sent down an angel to further his team and his career, complete with an entourage. He began to laugh at this thinking and the rest of the people on the bench including Mitsui looked at each other in silence, wondering if the wheels of his head still turned the right way. Shrugging at Kaname and the others, he brought his gaze back down at the stat book, briefly looking up to see who did what on the court. A bright gleam caught the corner of his eye and he scanned to crowd to look for the glint. Not seeing it again, he almost dismissed it when he chanced to see a pair of familiar spectacles on a face that wore an arrogant scowl in a seat close to the railing of the upper level.  
  
It was the math professor.  
  
"What's that bastard doing here?" he thought out loud, catching Coach Sato's attention.  
  
"What? Who are you talking about?"  
  
"Our math professor is in the crowd watching," the shooting guard explained, his irritation evident in his voice. "He's the reason why Reiko- san missed yesterday's practice. That sexist asshole made her feel so bad she just wanted to go home. I should've beaten the hell out of him when I had the chance."  
  
"Now, calm down there, pal," the coach said, trying to ease Mitsui's anger with a pat on his shoulder. "So that's what it was all about... well, we can't do anything about him being here. He's a paying spectator and hasn't done anything wrong. well, not yet, anyway."  
  
The shooting guard's level of worry shot up. He knew that the geeky stick with legs had a bruised ego, and he didn't know what to expect from a supercilious bigot like him. He hurriedly scanned the crowd for any of the men who were with the professor that morning, but it was hard to make out faces from the large crowd. Had the gleam from the professor's glasses not caught his eye, he would have never detected his presence. // Since when did he take interest in volleyball? //  
  
He apologized to Coach Sato as he left his seat to alert Jackson standing by the press table. Without delay he radioed the rest of the guards and watched as Fuji and Sakai walked along the railing of the upper level with their heads turned to the cheering crowd.  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"In the center of the first row of the upper level, straight ahead."  
  
"Are any of those three men from this morning with him?" Jackson asked in haste.  
  
"I can't tell with this many people here," Mitsui replied, his eyes quickly finding Reiko on the court. "Do you think I'm overreacting, Jackson-san?"  
  
"In our line of work, overreacting is absolutely necessary to protect one's life, especially hers," the bulky guard's bass voice replied. "And besides, that man is the type of guy who would rather tell other people how high he can piss than watch one of his students who embarrassed him in front of class play volleyball."  
  
Mitsui looked at the scoreboard. Coach Sato and his team were only four points away from winning their first championship title, and he prayed that they could win it sooner so the guards could get her out of the arena. His gaze returned to the place where the professor sat and he panicked when he was no longer there.  
  
"Jackson-san, he's gone," the shooting guard said in alarm. Jackson brought a hand to Mitsui's shoulder.  
  
"I need you to stay here, Mitsui-san." Jackson paused to look up at the crowd on the upper level. "I'm not asking you to risk your life for her, but," he said as he took his cell phone off its belt clip, "if anything happens to her while I'm gone, push the 'send' button. Her uncle will answer."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To find the skunk and take it outside."  
  
Mitsui watched Jackson as he hurried to the stairs that led to the upper level and speaking into the two-way radio simultaneously. He looked for Miller and found him walking along the border where the arena seats met the hard wood floor of the court. He willed his pulse to slow.  
  
// Calm down, calm down... //  
  
Taking a deep breath, he returned to his seat next to Coach Sato who had just called for a time-out. In the short time he was with Jackson, the other team had gained on Coach Sato's team and led them by one point. He watched the girls walk off the court as the coach stood. Before the playing six sat on the bench, the shooting guard mumbled in the coach's ear.  
  
"What happened, Sato-sensei?"  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know, I think they blinked," he replied as he shot him a confused look before turning to the ladies, their breaths ragged and brows knitted as they looked at their coach.  
  
"Did you see that, Sato-sensei? Miss Steroid Queen over there tried to swipe Nanami-chan's leg!" Sayuri spat out, her eyes glaring in anger.  
  
"What?" the coach said, his eyes wide as saucers.  
  
"You didn't see it? Every time Nanami-chan jumped to set the ball these last few times, she would jump with her and try to swipe her leg with her boat feet!" exclaimed Miki, her hands balling into fists. Her teammates were irritated as well, and for the first time in a long time, Reiko felt her temper rise at the opponent's unsporting conduct.  
  
"It's okay, guys. I'm all right."  
  
"Nanami-chan, is this true?" asked the coach in disbelief, and she answered him with a nod. It was just like her to keep her cool.  
  
"Well, shit, maybe I blinked, too..." he trailed off as he rubbed his chin in thought. "No matter. Listen, if they're resorting to dirty tricks like you said, then it means that they're desperate and they don't know how else to win this game clean. I want all passes three feet away from the net to give your setter a leg room. Nanami-chan, are you sure you're okay?"  
  
Again, she nodded and waved him off. "I'm okay, really."  
  
"Just get a side-out. Like I said, you don't have to pound at the ball all the time. Be smart. Take it one point at a time and don't rush things."  
  
Coach Sato heaved a sigh as he watched the girls walk away and onto the court. Taking his seat, he noticed the shooting guard still standing several feet away from him, his eyes looking straight at Reiko.  
  
She felt something amiss and looked over her shoulder, finding it odd to see Jackson gone from his post. Reiko's gaze drifted to the standing shooting guard, his eyes looking so intensely at him she stopped in her tracks. Turning to him, she angled her head in inquiry. Looking at his hand, he signed: b-e-c-a-r-e-f-u-l. She eased and smiled.  
  
"I will," she worded soundlessly before turning back to the court to take her position.  
  
On the upper level, Jackson calmly but quickly scanned the crowd, looking for the skinny professor with glasses. Seeing Sakai at the far end of the seating rows, he pointed to the opposite side of the upper level. Sakai walked around the oval walkway and joined Fuji on the other side. Jackson was about to go down the stairs when he saw a man walking away with a cane, ambling slowly to an empty seat on the first row of the upper level. Getting yet another one of those gut feelings, he decided to approach him when he heard a scream from the court below. Jackson took off running down the stairs.  
  
Lying on her side in a fetal position on the wooden floor, Nanami's eyes were shut tight and her breathing labored as she fought to urge to scream again. Her teammates quickly surrounded her as she laid still, her chest heaving up and down and beads of sweat sliding across her forehead. The crowd's noisy cheer lowered to a buzz of whispers as the spectators looked on. Relieved it wasn't Reiko, Jackson slowed his pace onto the wooden court and radioed his colleagues to hold their positions.  
  
"Nanami-san, what happened?" Reiko asked as she placed a gentle hand on her back.  
  
"My ankle," the setter whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes.  
  
Coach Sato and Mitsui made their way through the cluster of ladies and crouched down. "Nanami-chan, did you twist it?"  
  
She shook her head slowly, her eyes still tightly shut. "I felt this leg kick me when I jumped to set that last ball close to the net... I lost my balance and I think I landed wrong."  
  
Miki just about lost it. "Oh, that manly bitch! She's really going to get it!" she yelled as she looked across the other side of the net to see sneering eyes of the big hitter on the other team. Sayuri held her back.  
  
"Miki-chan, don't!"  
  
"But no one's doing anything about it!"  
  
"That will change."  
  
All heads turned to look at Reiko, her face hardened with a cold, dour look, her remorseless gray eyes glaring at the hulky player. They had never seen her like this before, and they were staggered by her frigid stare.  
  
"Quick, Mitsui-kun, help me carry her off the court," Coach Sato said as he helped the setter to a sitting position. With the coach on one side and the shooting guard on the other, they counted to three and stood her up, Nanami hopping in pain as they made their way off the court. The crowd stood on their feet and applauded the injured player. Reiko and the others took several chairs to help their setter prop her foot up, and the athletic trainer and his assistants came to their aid shortly after giving her a bottle of water. The whole team watched as they carried Nanami away on a stretcher, and Coach Sato quickly got their attention.  
  
"Ladies, that steroid freak of a woman took out your team captain, and that just makes me angry. However, we cannot let our emotions rule us, because it's so much easier to make mistakes if we let them get in the way. We're going to change things a little. Five-one offense, Sayuri-chan setting. Make every pass, set and hit count. Kaname-chan, let them know you're going in. This is no different from practice, ladies. I'll tell the floor official to keep an eye on that grotesque woman."  
  
They walked back on the court, Kaname joining them shortly as they huddled in the middle of the court. Miki was still mad, Sayuri tried to calm her down, and the others were worried that their setter and team captain was pulled from the game.  
  
"Ladies," said Reiko, her teammates' eyes falling on her, "I know that we should do what Coach Sato tells us to do. But, if you could just consider this idea and hear me out..."  
  
In a few seconds the girls all nodded in agreement and took their positions as the whistle blew.  
  
They received the opponents' serve and the pass went to Sayuri, just as Coach Sato had planned. She set the ball behind her just two feet above the net, and Reiko ground the ball down the sideline to tie the game. The arena was filled with roars of cheer, and after a round of high fives, it was Reiko's turn to serve the ball. She looked at the scoreboard. 27-27. The whistle sounded for her to serve, and she directed the ball to the mannish girl. Her pass was good, and as they set out a kill attempt, Coach Sato's team dug the ball effortlessly. The coach smiled as he saw Miki dig the ball, but what he saw next was a big surprise to him.  
  
The girls played the same offense just as before, but this time, Reiko took Nanami's place as the second setter. His jaw dropped.  
  
"Oh my God..." he mumbled in amazement.  
  
"What?" Mitsui asked.  
  
"Why didn't I think of that?" Coach Sato began to laugh. "She is an absolute genius," he said, his eyes glazed with unspoken joy as he watched his girls on the court. "The teacher becomes the student."  
  
"What are you talking about, Sato-sensei?"  
  
He continued to laugh. "She's going to use the one trick even I didn't think of using."  
  
"And what's that?"  
  
He was answered with silence as the coach watched his team intensely, his upper body leaning forward and supported by both his elbows. He was in his own world now.  
  
Meanwhile, Jackson returned to the upper level to look for the man with the cane. He was bothered that the man wasn't in his seat, and suspicion digressed from mere coincidence as he turned around to scan the crowd once more. It didn't make sense. The man didn't even look like he had a limp, and Jackson wondered why he walked with a cane.  
  
On the court, Kaname approached the net to hit a quick set from Reiko, getting past the block and landing the ball down the sideline. 28- 27. The ladies cheered on the court, running into a huddle with high fives all around. Before they dispersed, Reiko whispered some words for them to use to call out their sets, her teammates' eyes blazing with determination. They were not about to hand over what they had painstakingly worked for all season, and what their team captain had earnestly pushed them to achieve.  
  
They won the next point, frustrating the opposing team especially their coach. After watching so many tapes of Coach Sato's games, never once had he seen Reiko set. She always played a hitter position. His best hitter out there was not exactly the best passer, and Reiko managed to exploit this weakness. He muttered a curse under his breath as he looked at the scoreboard. 29-27. Gamepoint.  
  
Before going back to their positions, Reiko held their attention in the huddle. "Ladies, Nanami-san wasn't kidding about getting kicked. That big player isn't the only one doing the kicking," she said, pointing to the red spot on the side of her leg. "Instead of getting angrier, let's make them cry instead. Shotgun on a good pass, Yuki-san. Quick sets to the outsides."  
  
They all shouted yes in unison, their faces wearing a gritty smirk.  
  
The ball was served and a rally of volleys ensued, finally ending with a side-out for the other team. Still 29-27.  
  
Rika dug the serve, passing the ball to Reiko, and instead of setting her teammates up for a kill, she set the ball over the net to the far corner of the court, surprising everyone on the court including her teammates and Coach Sato. Before they could react, they got into defense formation to receive an attack.  
  
"Sayuri!" Reiko called out as she dug the ball. "Just behind you!"  
  
She didn't understand what she meant, but she felt a shoe grind against the side of her thigh from the opposite side of the net. She was pissed and at the same time confused: it didn't make sense to set the ball behind her, because she was a front-row hitter and Reiko wasn't, and it would be against the rules if Reiko hit the ball in front of the ten-foot line. But if she jumped from behind the ten-foot line...  
  
Sayuri finally understood. She set the ball high just a foot away from the net. Everyone on the team held their breath as they watched Reiko sprint into a jump, and Coach Sato stood from his seat gaping at the play. Sayuri had set her too far out and the only way to hit the ball was to.. His eyes grew wide and he felt time stand still, his breath catching in his throat as he watched her ascent into the air going in slow motion in front of his eyes as a flurry of flashes from cameras went off in the crowd.  
  
This is it, the coach thought, his heart threatening to leap off his chest.  
  
In the air, Reiko let out a loud cry as she hit the ball with all the force her left arm and body could put into it, crushing the ball in the direction of the brawny girl's position. The ball crossed the net with such velocity that all the mannish girl could do was protect her face with her arms, the impact making her fall backwards as the ball bounced off at an unrecoverable angle. Satisfaction surged through her as she landed nimbly on the wooden floor, her gray eyes glaring at the girl she just hit.  
  
30-27. They had won the match.  
  
Coach Sato jumped from where he stood, and everyone on the team rushed towards Reiko with triumphant screams, her eyes glinting blue as they overwhelmed her with hugs. They carried her on their shoulders as they walked off the court. Coach Sato was so happy, he cried.  
  
In the crowd, Yohei, Hanamichi and the rest of the basketball team including Coach Miwa leapt for joy, yelling from the top of their lungs a triumphant shout. This is the first time in Coach Sato's coaching history that he's won a national collegiate title. Ayako and Miyagi embraced each other as they jumped simultaneously, and Rukawa tried to push his redheaded teammate away as he danced circles around him and Haruko.  
  
From the bench, Mitsui stood from his seat and looked at his stretch partner in awe. A small grin remained on her fair face as she was lowered down to her feet. He quickly approached her.  
  
"You did it, Reiko-san! You won the game!" he exclaimed, picking her up and whirling her around in his arms, this act that had been a wish before finally coming true. She returned the embrace, giggling softly in his ear.  
  
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Mitsui-san," she said as he stopped to let her down. "WE won the game. It wasn't just me."  
  
The shooting guard laughed. "Are you always this humble?"  
  
"Actually, no... but this game changed me in more ways than I could imagine," she replied, her eyes pools of bright blue intensified by the light reflecting off the polished wooden floor.  
  
Mitsui grinned. "Come on, we have to tell Nanami-chan what happened. That is, if she doesn't already know."  
  
He took her by the hand as he did earlier, unabashed of the public display of affection. People knew all along how he felt about her, and it was never a big secret. She halted to look down at her shoelaces that came untied.  
  
"Just a moment, Mitsui-san," she said as she crouched down to tie her laces.  
  
"Okay. Oh, let me give Sato-sensei the stat sheet. I'll be right back," he said as he turned on his heel to find the overjoyed coach in the midst of his jubilant team. The whole arena blared with euphoric clatter as the rest of her teammates lifted their coach on their shoulders.  
  
She smiled as she turned her attention to her shoe, and as she pulled tighter on her laces, she suddenly felt a sharp, stinging pain on the back of her left arm, forcing her shoulder to flinch away. Her face twisted as her hand felt the area of pain, and her eyes grew wide with fear as she saw a needle sticking out from her upper arm. Before she could even gasp, she felt her throat constrict, and she found it extremely difficult to breathe. She called out to her stretch partner but no sound came out, and soon she was fighting to find air. Reiko struggled to balance herself on her feet, and she willed her voice to come out of her mouth but to no avail.  
  
From the upper level, Sakai saw Reiko clutching her throat and immediately ran down the stairwell to court level, alerting all guards of what he just saw.  
  
In a few seconds the guards emerged from each of the four stairwells leading to the court, and the shooting guard saw Jackson running towards the court from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned around to find Reiko on bended knee, one arm hanging limply to one side and the other supporting her upper body from falling down. Within a blink of an eye, Jackson and the others surrounded her. It took a second for the stunned shooting guard to react and hurry to her side.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, what's wrong?" Jackson hurriedly asked, catching her just as she was about to fall forward, her eyes blinking drowsily as she slipped in and out of consciousness.  
  
"Reiko-san!" Mitsui cried out.  
  
Still struggling to breathe, she slowly brought a hand to the foreign object imbedded in her skin.  
  
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Sakai, pulling out the offending needle. "Miller, give me your handkerchief," he demanded, and the younger guard immediately fished for the cloth in his pocket, and Sakai pinned the needle into the middle of the cloth before folding it. "Fuji, the Suburban." Fuji took off running to the nearest exit out of the arena.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, can you hear me?" Jackson said as he shook her gently, trying to be as calm as possible. The brawny guard moved her body so that her back rested in his burly arms. Seeing her nod, Mitsui watched as she brought a hand to her abdomen, her hand signing a word for them to see.  
  
P-o-i-s-o-n.  
  
With that, her hand fell limply down her side, the sight provoking Mitsui to shout out loud.  
  
"Reiko!" 


	18. Chapter 18

I am grateful for the long-drawn patience of my readers. Krissy, you've waited a long time for this part. Enjoy. Be advised that this is not the end, Doujin. Thank you for reading.  
  
iron kitty  
  
  
  
All men gasped at her last reply and instinctively Jackson raised his gaze to the upper level once more, his eyes frantically searching for a suspect. He muttered a curse under his breath as he saw the multitudes of people crowd the exits, and he swung his head to the opposite side of the upper level. His eyes widened as he saw the man with the cane. Jackson looked to the shooting guard.  
  
"We need to get her out of here. Mitsui-san, we're going to need your help," Jackson said, carrying Reiko off the floor and placing her into the shooting guard's arms. "I need you to go to the hospital with Sakai. Fuji will take you there. Miller, let's go!"  
  
Miller ran behind Jackson as they weaved quickly through the crowd, Sakai calling out to Mitsui.  
  
"Mitsui-san, hurry and follow me!"  
  
As they pushed their way through the crowd, Coach Sato turned around to see Reiko's limp body in Mitsui's arms.  
  
"What the hell?! Mitsui-kun!" the coach yelled.  
  
"Reiko-chan!" the team cried out, confused and upset at seeing their teammate's unconscious form being carried away.  
  
"Ladies, stay here," Coach Sato instructed. He tried to catch up with the shooting guard who was trying to get past the crowd to the nearest exit. "What's going on, Mitsui-kun?"  
  
"Can't stay and talk right now, Sato-sensei. Someone shot a poisoned needle at her. We need to get away from here," said Mitsui, his strong arms shifting Reiko's body into a more comfortable position in his grasp. He looked down at his stretch partner, the lifeless look across her face causing a surge of panic inside him.  
  
Coach Sato stopped running at his words and flagged down the nearest security guard he found.  
  
In the seats of the upper level, Akagi and the rest of his team watched in astonishment as they followed Mitsui and the unconscious Reiko in his arms run through the crowd. Ayako turned to her boyfriend.  
  
"Ryota, what happened to Reiko-chan?" she said, both her hands tugging nervously at his muscled arm.  
  
"I don't know..." He turned to Akagi. "Gori, what the hell's happening?"  
  
The center shrugged as he shook his head. Their attention was caught by Hanamichi's loud voice.  
  
"What the hell?! Hey asshole, don't shove people around!" the redhead said as he grabbed a scrawny man wearing a flannel suit.  
  
"Get out of my way, you freak!" the man barked as he tried to get away from his grasp.  
  
"Why you -" Hanamichi was about to give the guy a head butt when Akagi stepped forward.  
  
"Sakuragi, stop," the center's bass voice boomed.  
  
"But Gori, this guy shoved me!" the redhead whined.  
  
Impervious to his complaint, Akagi walked over to the bickering two, eyeing the man in the flannel suit as Hanamichi held onto him by the collar of his shirt. "You're one of the math professor's minions, aren't you?"  
  
"Let me go!" the man yelped nervously, clearly overwhelmed by the two large basketball players.  
  
Ayako let out a cry that whipped all their heads to her direction. They followed her gaze to the opposite side of the upper level and saw Jackson running through the crowd with a gun, and several feet ahead of him was a man running away with a cane in hand. Several shrieks erupted from the crowd.  
  
"Either that man was healed by the hand of God or he did something very, very bad," mumbled Rukawa as he dug his hands in his back pockets.  
  
Akagi unconsciously gripped the rail and leaned over slightly as his eyes followed the running men, and as they neared the stairwell, Miller ran into the cane-toting man head on, knocking both of them as they tumbled down the stairwell out of the center's line of sight.  
  
"Oh shit..." Akagi mumbled as he looked down the court in realization. "Miyagi, they're the ones who hurt Reiko-san."  
  
The point guard's eyes narrowed in anger. "What?! You mean to tell me that this asswipe is one of the bad guys?" he snarled as he jerked a thumb at the man in the flannel suit. Before the center could confirm, Miyagi grabbed the scrawny man's collar, yanked him from Hanamichi's clutch, turned him around and slammed him against the railing. The man whimpered in pain.  
  
"Why'd you hurt my pal's girlfriend, you shit?!"  
  
"Calm down, men," Coach Miwa interrupted, both his hands clasped behind his back as he walked up to the man struggling against the railing. Looking him over, he turned to Akagi and the others.  
  
"Akagi, Keiichi, go see if Jackson-san needs your help. Miyagi, Kazuma, make sure this man stays here. Ayako-chan, go down and tell Sato's team to go back to the locker room and stay there. I'll go find Sato downstairs. Whoever's got a cell phone, please call the cops now."  
  
They dispersed and did as instructed, and as they descended separate stairwells, Kazuma got on his phone and called the police. Hanamichi, Rukawa and the point guard gave the flannel-suited man a glare that made him squirm in Miyagi's grasp. His grip only grew tighter.  
  
"Move and you're dead, chicken shit," Miyagi growled.  
  
  
  
In the speeding Suburban, Sakai and Mitsui had the seats tilted back flat and tended to Reiko's supine form, still and unmoving. Placing an ear to her chest, Sakai listened for a heartbeat. Not hearing one, he checked her carotids for a pulse.  
  
"Mitsui-san, behind you is a first-aid kit. I need you to get it for me."  
  
The shooting guard did as he requested, quickly ripping the kit from its Velcro hold and unzipping it open. Sakai remembered the cell phone Jackson handed Mitsui.  
  
"Call Dr. Nakamichi, tell him it's an emergency," he said, easing Reiko's head back to clear her airway before performing CPR.  
  
Mitsui could hear his heart pounding as he fretfully pushed the 'send' button twice, his troubled eyes watching Sakai as he attempted to breathe life back into his stretch partner's lungs.  
  
"Dr. Nakamichi," a voice answered on the other line.  
  
"Hello, sir, my name is Mitsui Hisashi and something happened to Reiko-san."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"She's unconscious and Sakai-san is performing CPR as we speak. Fuji- san is taking us to the hospital, sir."  
  
The doctor was thrown into confusion. "What happened?"  
  
"We found a needle stuck behind her arm... it looked like a dart or something... she told us it was poison before she passed out."  
  
"Good God..."  
  
Tak Nakamichi stood from his seat and his mind raced with thought. It could be any poison...  
  
"What exactly happened before you found her?"  
  
"She was grabbing her throat, sir."  
  
She couldn't breath. An immediate reaction...  
  
"Mitsui-san, do you see any welts or bumps on her body?"  
  
The shooting guard moved over Reiko and anxiously examined her legs. "I don't see any, sir."  
  
"Did you check her thorax?"  
  
"Her what?"  
  
"Her chest and abdomen, do you see them there?" Dr. Nakamichi said hastily.  
  
Realizing that this was no time for guarding his inhibitions, Mitsui held his breath as he lifted Reiko's uniform up to reveal scattered bumps that looked like insect bites all over her abdomen.  
  
"Yes, sir, all over her tummy."  
  
Mitsui heard a sharp intake of breath from the other line.  
  
"Tell Sakai to give her a shot of epinephrine immediately."  
  
"Sakai-san, she needs epinephrine now," instructed Mitsui, clutching the phone to his ear tensely as he lowered Reiko's shirt over her abdomen. The bodyguard grabbed the kit and fumbled to find a vial of liquid and a syringe as the Suburban screeched to make a sharp turn.  
  
"Keep her steady for a second, Fuji," ordered Sakai as calmly as possible, concentrating his efforts on getting the needle to puncture the rubber top of the vial. Succeeding, the guard injected several milliliters of the liquid into her unaffected arm and told Mitsui to keep her head still as he put away the syringe and vial. The shooting guard cradled Reiko's head in his lap.  
  
"Come on, dear," Sakai coaxed softly as he rubbed her limp hand. "Come back to us..."  
  
"What's happening now?" demanded Dr. Nakamichi on the other line, the tension in his voice palpable.  
  
"Sakai-san just gave her a shot of that epinephrine stuff, and -"  
  
Mitsui abruptly stopped when he saw Reiko's chest move as she gasped for air.  
  
"She's breathing, sir!" he exclaimed in relief, and a thankful, weary chuckle escaped from the bodyguard's throat.  
  
"Oh, thank God..." the doctor sighed as he collapsed onto his swivel chair. Taking a second to inhale, he coughed before talking into the receiver. "Mitsui-san, how close are you to the hospital?"  
  
"We're approaching the driveway as we speak, sir," replied Mitsui, his free hand brushing several wisps of hair away from Reiko's cheek.  
  
"Good. Thank you for helping my niece and the guards, Mitsui-san. I need to speak to Sakai-san," he said.  
  
Following orders, the shooting guard gave Sakai the phone as he secured Reiko's head and upper body while Fuji pulled into the driveway of the hospital. Fuji shifted the vehicle in park and all of them quickly got out of the car, Mitsui and Sakai carrying their precious cargo into the emergency room.  
  
"Yes, sir..." talked Sakai into the cell phone. "No, sir, they're still at the arena. They're going after the suspects... Yes, sir... Understood. We will see you then, sir." Sakai hung up as several men and women in white coats took Reiko from Mitsui's arms and laid her on a gurney.  
  
Taking his Beretta from the holster strapped around his shoulder, Sakai asked, "Do you know how to use a gun?" Before the shooting guard could reply, Sakai checked the gun and handed it to Mitsui. "All you need to do is pull the trigger. There is a Dr. Takani in this hospital, and he's a good friend of Dr. Nakamichi. He'll be taking care of her. Don't let anyone near her but him." Before Mitsui ran off behind the gurney, Sakai pleaded, "Mitsui-san, don't let her out of your sight."  
  
Answering with a brief nod, the shooting guard was gone.  
  
Feeling like a heavy burden just lifted off his shoulders, Sakai turned to his younger colleague.  
  
"Fuji, I need you to take me back to the arena. I have a feeling Jackson and Miller need our help."  
  
"Let me go instead. You can stay here and watch over Nakamichi- dono."  
  
Sakai sighed and rolled his eyes. "Always ready for a fight like your father."  
  
Fuji grinned.  
  
"Dr. Nakamichi will be taking the first flight to Japan out of Los Angeles. That gives us roughly thirteen hours to get her in and out of the immersion chamber."  
  
"Do you think that's such a good idea? I mean, it's too soon," remarked Fuji as he took his vibrating cell phone off its belt clip. "This is Fuji," he answered.  
  
"Fuji, is Nakamichi-dono okay?" said Miller, his breathing labored.  
  
"We've got her breathing again. We're at the hospital right now."  
  
"Good. Get over here, man. I just got shot with a dart, and one of the bastards stabbed me in my thigh. it's hard to get around."  
  
"Are you all right?" Fuji asked with a furrowed brow, making Sakai turn his head at the younger guard in curiosity.  
  
"I'm not exactly feeling fabulous at the moment, but I'll live. Mitsui-san's teammates are helping us out, but they don't have weapons and --"  
  
"And what?" demanded Fuji as he strained to listen for Miller's voice, hearing loud gunshots in the background instead. "Miller? Miller!"  
  
A few pauses of static came through the line for a couple of seconds.  
  
"Fuji, can you hear me?"  
  
Heaving a sigh, Fuji was relieved to hear his colleague's voice. "Miller, you ass, I thought something happened to you. what just happened?"  
  
"The professor just shot at Jackson. He's okay, but Jackson's the only guy running around here with a weapon. I'm worried about Akagi-san and the others."  
  
"I'm on my way," Fuji curtly replied as he hung up. Before he could run back to the vehicle, Sakai grabbed a hold of his arm.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"To the arena, where else?"  
  
"Not without me, you're not."  
  
"All right, but I'm driving. You drive like an old woman."  
  
Sakai grinned as both of them hastily got into the Suburban and buckled up. Just like his father was, Fuji found ways to lighten the guards' moods. The screeching sound of tires made heads in the reception area of the emergency unit turned as the vehicle pealed out of the hospital's driveway. As they ran a red light, Fuji turned sharply on a corner without so much as a bat of an eyelash, his face unchangingly calm despite the honks he got from other drivers.  
  
"Do you think it's all right to leave Nakamichi-dono and Mitsui-san alone?" he randomly asked, the people and cars on the street appearing as blurs to Sakai in the speeding Suburban. The older guard opened the glove box and took the revolver that it contained.  
  
"Jackson's intuition is very dependable. Mitsui-san's all right," answered Sakai, his hand holding onto the grip just above the window. He let a weak smile cross his lips. "Love can make the fiercest protector out of anyone, Fuji. Mitsui-san is fueled by it."  
  
As they sped through the parking lot of the arena, Fuji briefly glanced at the older guard with a knowing grin.  
  
  
  
Mitsui followed the nurses as they ran through the double doors of the intensive care unit, asking him for the details that led to her condition. He told them of the needle, and about the shot of epinephrine delivered by Sakai.  
  
"What was she doing prior to the event?" asked one of the nurses as they counted to three before lifting Reiko off the gurney and onto the hospital bed.  
  
"She was playing volleyball at the Kanagawa Arena."  
  
"You mean she was playing in the finals?" piped one of the younger nurses. As they checked her vitals, a middle-aged man with graying locks of hair in a long white coat walked hurriedly into the room.  
  
"Yeah," Mitsui replied with a twinge of pride in his voice. "Will she be all right?"  
  
"We'll have to see," said the man with the white coat. "I'm Dr. Takani and I'll be seeing to it that Tak's niece gets taken care of," he said as he checked Reiko's pupils with a pen light.  
  
"Mitsui Hisashi, sir. Thank you for coming to her aid."  
  
Dr. Takani took a second to look at the shooting guard. "Yes, Tak told me about you. It's nice to meet you, though it might have been nicer had it not been in these circumstances. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said as he placed the earpieces of his stethoscope into his ears.  
  
Mitsui stepped back and watched the nurses and the doctor attend to his stretch partner, relieved that she was under more capable hands yet at the same still worried. He was scared out of his wits when she wasn't breathing and he found himself in the corner of the room thinking of how different things could have been had he not turned around to give Coach Sato the stats sheet. The shortest of the nurses approached him and broke him from his guilty reverie.  
  
"Sir, you can wait outside. We'll take good care of her," she said, her gentle hand pushing lightly behind the shooting guard's taut back as she tried to usher him out.  
  
"It's all right," said the doctor out loud. "Let him stay."  
  
The nurse merely shrugged her small shoulders and took the metal clipboard from the hanging file bin at the foot of the bed.  
  
Still in his corner, Mitsui continued to watch, his heart swelling with the guilt that hurled him back into self-contempt. // I should've never taken my eyes off her . //  
  
  
  
Chaos in the Kanagawa Arena.  
  
The security guards did their best to direct the distraught and panic- stricken spectators out of the arena, Yohei and the Sakuragi Gundan helping them. Police cruisers surrounded the building, with several officers securing each exit through which the perpetrators could possibly escape. Fuji and Sakai fought their way against the waves of people streaming out of the main entrance, shrieks and cries filling the entrance hall.  
  
In one of the stairwells, Miller winced as he tried to stand up on his good leg. Below him lay an unconscious man on the lower steps, the cane which he held earlier not too far away from his sprawled out form. He gritted his teeth upon looking at the cane once more. These people were organized and had planned for this attack. They made a dart gun out of the cane using compressed air to deliver the poison. He made his way back to the upper level, recognizing Miyagi with several other men and a much smaller man whose collar was held up by a tall redhead. Several police officers made their way to them and escorted the group outside. Most of the upper level was cleared out by now, and he could hear Jackson yelling down below.  
  
"Come out, you asshole!" roared the bulky guard, his hand holding his Glock steady below him, his trigger finger ready to pull. He used the cement wall that lined the courtside seats as a shield, and from time to time he peeked out into the seats in an attempt to find the man who stabbed Miller in the stairwell. He was about to peer out from behind the wall when a hail of bullets sent chips of cement flying just millimeters from Jackson's face. He immediately hid behind the wall. Remembering the angle of the shots, he waited several seconds before firing a number of shots at a row of seats just across the wall. Getting behind the wall once more, he grinned in satisfaction when he heard a loud groan from behind the row. Taking a deep breath, he rushed from behind the wall ran across the court. He heard Miller shout out from above.  
  
"Watch it, he's still armed!"  
  
In a second, a man with a bloody left shoulder emerged from his hiding place behind the row of seats and aimed his gun at the running Jackson. Miller instinctively pulled out his weapon and took a shot, the sound from his gun surprisingly loud. He saw his target fall in a split second, and after muttering a curse at their fallen adversary, his eyes drifted down the court to Jackson.  
  
He gasped upon seeing his colleague's body on the wooden floor, motionless.  
  
"Jackson!"  
  
Miller winced in pain as he hobbled down the stairwell, kicking the unconscious cane-carrying man aside so he could hop down the steps. When he got to court level, Fuji and Sakai were already running towards their fallen comrade.  
  
"Jackson!" both guards called out, immediately inspecting his body for the offending wound. Miller limped as fast as he could to Jackson's side.  
  
"Miller," acknowledged Fuji as his eyes strayed to his bloody thigh. "Shit, you look bad."  
  
"It's nice to see you, too, punk," said Miller, smiling despite the pain that shot down his thigh. Looking down at Jackson, he was more than relieved to see the burly guard's eyes open. "Hey Jackson, you okay?"  
  
He grunted with a nod. "I just got the wind knocked out of me."  
  
"Aren't you glad you wore your vest?" cajoled Fuji, tapping against Jackson's knee. "You think you can walk?"  
  
"Yeah, just give me a minute. don't let your guard down, guys. I think the professor's still at large."  
  
"We didn't see him on our way in. I heard that Mitsui-san's teammates are helping out. Where are they?" asked Fuji.  
  
With some difficulty, Jackson managed to sit up. "I think I saw Miyagi-san and his friends leave with the scumbag and the cops. Where they went is beyond my knowledge. As for Akagi-san and his teammate, the last time I saw them was when Miller got stabbed. They were headed to the locker rooms."  
  
Sakai offered his hand to help Jackson up on his feet. Taking it, he tried to stand as straight as possible, momentarily clutching his ribs before reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket and switching out the gun's empty clip for a full one.  
  
"Miller, could you lend me your gun?" asked Sakai. Nodding, the grimacing guard handed his gun to the older guard. "Thanks."  
  
"Fuji, take Miller to the hospital. Sakai and I will handle the professor. If you see him on the way out, shoot to kill. Understand?"  
  
"Yes," both younger guards answered. All their heads turned when they heard muffled gunfire from the entrance hall of the arena. All guards immediately gripped their weapons.  
  
"Let's go, Sakai."  
  
  
  
Her ankle with a bag of ice taped around it, Nanami pulled herself from the chair she sat in and hopped onto the vacant one next to Ayako. Instead of celebrating, the volleyball team clustered in silence at one corner of the locker room, the door locked with the back of a chair jarring the door handle. After being told of what happened outside, the leader in her took charge of the situation and calmed everybody down despite the inflamed condition her ankle was in. Like little sisters, they all looked up to Nanami for answers.  
  
"Nanami-chan, do you think it's safe to go out now?" asked Miki, her voice a whisper everyone could hear.  
  
"I think we should stay here until Sato-sensei or the cops come to get us," answered the setter.  
  
"God, what's going to happen to Reiko-chan?" Kaname blurted, her eyes threatening to spill tears at any second.  
  
"I don't know the answer to that, Kaname-chan. didn't you guys say that Mi-chan was with her and another bodyguard?"  
  
"Yeah. but -"  
  
"Don't think about it, Kaname-chan. We can only hope for the best possible outcome," countered Nanami, her hand gently rubbing Kaname's back as she hugged her knees closer to her chest, tears escaping through the corners of her eyes.  
  
A loud thud jolted everyone's attention to the locker room door, eliciting several gasps from the ladies including the setter. Nanami signaled to them with an index finger to her lips, bidding the ladies to keep their silence despite repeated thuds against the door that got louder and louder. The ladies huddled closer to each other. They could hear shouts outside the door.  
  
Thunderous gunfire followed by the startling crash of the locker room door against the floor extracted brisk cries from the team and Ayako. Their voices rose to piercing shrieks when they saw a man come into view from behind the wall of lockers, one hand hidden behind his back.  
  
Pausing to look at slight man, Sayuri clamped her mouth as her eyes widened skeptically.  
  
"Wait a minute, YOU'RE the guy who kicked the door down?" she asked cynically, her brow arching at the skinny man.  
  
"What the hell do you mean by that, you brazen hussy?" retorted the man, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he made an effort to straighten his tie and comb his messy hair with his bony fingers despite the sweat that held the small locks together.  
  
"You're the one who hurt Reiko-chan!" Ayako angrily blurted out, her hands balled into white-knuckled fists.  
  
"And so what if I did, bitch? What are you going to do, huh?" the bespectacled man scoffed, producing a gun from behind his back and relishing in the terrified gasps it produced.  
  
"You bastard! I will never forgive you for hurting her!" yelled Nanami, her blood racing to a boil as she hopped indignantly forward on her good leg.  
  
"Your forgiveness matters not to me, dear," the man sneered as he charged at the setter, the ladies and Ayako crying out for Nanami to get away. She couldn't flee fast enough to avoid the man's clutches. "But you'd make a good shield. Get over here, wench." He pulled her over and she stumbled in agony, her ankle shooting pain up her leg as she was dragged across the floor to a bench by the shower rooms. Looking over his shoulder at the horrified ladies, he flashed them a yellow, toothy grin. "If you try anything, you're as good as dead, you hear me?"  
  
He was answered by nervous sniffling and angry tears.  
  
Just outside, Akagi and Keiichi were beside themselves in dread when Jackson and Sakai approached them.  
  
"Jackson-san, the whole volleyball team and Ayako-chan are in there, and so is that damn professor! We gotta get them out of there!" the center hastily said.  
  
"Is he carrying a weapon?" asked Sakai.  
  
Both teammates looked at each other. "He shot at the door."  
  
"All right. You guys stay here. If the police come, tell them to send men on the east side of the building. There's a ventilation shaft that leads to the locker room. Tell them to block it. We'll take care of him from here."  
  
A few feet away from the locker room's entrance, Jackson silently signaled for Sakai to hold his position, Sakai waiting alongside of the entrance wall. Seeing the door barged in, the guards crept inside in silence, Sakai being the first to enter. Upon taking a third step, a shot fired at him, luckily missing his head and hitting the wall beside him. Sakai took a few steps back and held his gun up.  
  
"Don't even try coming after me, you muscle heads," shouted the professor, his arm's grip around Nanami's neck choking the setter. "Or else the girl with the limp will pay for it!"  
  
Hearing the professor's shouts and the setter's groans, Akagi clenched his fists in anger. He turned to Keiichi.  
  
"Damn him, he's hurting Nanami-chan!" he growled as he stepped forward towards the locker room entrance. Keiichi grabbed his muscled shoulder.  
  
"Akagi, are you nuts?! We don't have guns like Jackson-san and Sakai- san, we need to stay put!"  
  
"If he hurt someone you cared about, you wouldn't be so hesitant," Akagi said flatly and shrugged away from his teammate's grasp.  
  
Before Keiichi could think of words to say, a round of shots rang inside the locker room once more, sending Akagi into a fit of anxiety. Seeing the broken chair and door in plain view, the center started walking to the locker room.  
  
  
  
  
  
Dr. Takani had successfully stabilized Reiko's vitals and had her wheeled to a room by his office. Mitsui followed the doctor to the room, watching carefully as he adjusted the drip of the IV unit. Jotting a few notes on a metal clipboard, Dr. Takani replaced it by the foot of the hospital bed. He took a second to glance at the shooting guard who stared at the sleeping Reiko in silence.  
  
"Son, are you all right?" asked the doctor.  
  
"I don't know yet, sir," mumbled Mitsui, his face harboring a blank look.  
  
"Well, you don't have to worry so much. She's pretty stable now, she can even go home tonight. Just make sure you check in with me on the phone from time to time. She's lucky she was given epinephrine on the way here." He looked at her cataleptic state. "Poor Rei-chan. why would anyone do this to her?"  
  
The shooting guard slowly shook his head. "I don't know, sensei. but I know our math professor had something to do with it."  
  
Dr. Takani was about to prod him for more answers when a voice on the intercom interrupted him.  
  
"Dr. Takani to the emergency room, please. Dr. Takani to the emergency room."  
  
"Well, looks like I'm needed," he said as he headed for the door, sighing as he turned the knob. "Her uncle asked that she be released after being stabilized. Have the nurse give you my number. I hope to hear of her progress soon, Mitsui-san." With that, the doctor closed the door behind him.  
  
Left alone with his sleeping stretch partner, he was unaware of the pandemonium that was occurring at the arena nor did he care all that much. She was out of the woods. Mitsui walked to the side of the bed, pulled the chair next to the bed closer and took a seat.  
  
"Reiko-san," he called softly, clutching her cool wilted hand in his. "You're okay now..." he mumbled, the softly spoken words more for his reassurance. He felt like he was in a waking nightmare, and they were in the eye of the storm. // Why did this happen? // The shooting guard took her palm and pressed it against his face flushed with remorseful ease. He didn't fight the prick of tears that escaped his tightly shut eyes, the shooting guard crumpled forward, quietly sobbing.  
  
He froze when he felt the hand against his face twitch, a hoarse whisper audible in the quiet room.  
  
"Mitsui-san?" she assumed, the tips of her fingers slowly trailing over the skin that it touched, stopping at the track of tears that forged a path down his cheek. Reiko found it difficult to swallow with a dry throat, and her eyes remained closed. She could hear the person's breathing before her increase in rate, and the skin underneath her fingers was moist and warm to the touch.  
  
"Your cheek is wet."  
  
It was an unassuming, unseen observation that caught him off guard. He lowered her hand from his face and quickly wiped the evidence of his guilt with his sleeve.  
  
"It was raining outside," he said, a forced smile creeping across his lips. Never mind that he lied, he thought. He was the only person before her at that moment that she could draw strength from, and he wasn't about to be a fortress of lament. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his clutch on her hand slightly taut.  
  
She tried to smile. "Heavy," she replied. "Other than that, I'm quite peachy."  
  
Mitsui let out a laugh, one that betrayed a sense of deliverance. "You worried me there, Reiko-san..."  
  
She let her eyes open slowly, blinking several times before she could focus on the figure whose calm and deep voice was recognizably her stretch partner's. He wore that grin that she had grown accustomed to seeing, and the warmth of his hand against hers emanated a sense of tenderness she had associated with her parents and siblings. She felt at home, and the gray in her eyes faded into a static blue hue. This made Mitsui smile even more.  
  
"You don't know how happy I am to see those blue eyes of yours," he said as he gave her hand a brief squeeze.  
  
"The feeling is mutual, Mitsui-san," she replied with a smile.  
  
"Dr. Takani said you can go home tonight. Do you think you're up for that?"  
  
"Home sounds wonderful," she whispered, her eyes wandering as she took in her surroundings. "Dr. Takani... he was Uncle Tak's roommate when he was going to medical school... Where is Mr. Jackson and the others?"  
  
"They're still at the arena," he replied as soft as he could, trying to tone down the chaos that loomed in his imagination.  
  
Reiko willed every muscle in her body to move as she tried to prop herself up into a sitting position. "Are they all right?"  
  
"Sakai-san and Fuji-san drove us here, but they went back to the arena... they're good men, they'll be okay."  
  
Noticing the gun and the cell phone on his person, Reiko blinked at her stretch partner. He noted her perception. "Sakai-san gave this to me to protect you," he explained as he shifted in his seat. "And Jackson-san gave me this to call your uncle should anything happen to you, and something did happen to you," he said as he looked down at his shoes. "I talked to him on the way here."  
  
Before he could continue, the door opened after several knocks and a smiling Fuji and a bandaged Miller walked in, Fuji holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and Reiko's gym bag hanging from his shoulder.  
  
"It's good to see you conscious again, Nakamichi-dono," greeted Fuji, a surprisingly playful grin plastered across his face. "Dr. Takani told us that you can go home soon."  
  
"You saw Dr. Takani?" she asked.  
  
"He was the one who treated Miller," he replied as he jerked a thumb at Miller. "Oh, these are for you," he said, handing the flowers over to her. "No bugs on them, I checked."  
  
Reiko looked at the bouquet with a smile. "Thank you, Fuji-san." She turned her gaze to Miller and his bandaged leg. "What happened, Mr. Miller?"  
  
He shrugged. "I tripped and grazed my thigh on a nail," he said as his hands dug into his trouser pockets. "Don't worry, my tetanus shots are up to date," he assured with a smirk. It made Reiko chuckle, and Fuji nodded in silent approval as he looked at Miller's straight face.  
  
"Dr. Takani has notified your uncle of the situation and we were told that you can go home tonight," reported the bandaged guard. "Um... we were wondering if you wanted to go home a little sooner than that."  
  
"How soon is soon?" asked Mitsui.  
  
"Ten minutes."  
  
"That soon?"  
  
Both guards nodded. Turning their attention to Reiko once more, Fuji stepped forward. "Nakamichi-dono, we - " he stopped himself as his eyes briefly rolled sideways at Mitsui's direction. In a tone an octave lower, he continued. "We have to prepare the immersion chamber for you."  
  
Reiko stiffened at Fuji's words, her free hand gripped the white hospital sheet for a fleeting moment, and had the shooting guard blinked, he would have missed her reaction. Her head lowered to look blankly down her lap.  
  
Fuji looked at Miller and his pursed lips who with a small and quick nod encouraged him to continue before averting his gaze down the floor, and he caught Mitsui's questioning glance. His gaze returned to Reiko as he lowered the gym bag to the floor.  
  
"Dr. Nakamichi will be arriving early tomorrow morning, and -"  
  
Her head whipped up. "Uncle Tak is coming?" she asked eagerly, her eyes displaying a cerulean hue in hopeful anticipation.  
  
Fuji grinned in relief. "Yes, he wanted to make sure you were all right." Both guards' brows eased at the sight of her beaming face. In the past, one mention of the immersion chamber would send her into a subdued state of depression, and the guards disliked seeing her in such disposition. They disliked themselves even more to hear her feeble cries of protest. Her current reaction gave them nothing short of a quiet startle.  
  
"Will my uncle be there while I'm in the chamber?" she coyly asked, her head slightly lowering to meet Fuji's eyes with her azure ones, almost fearing embarrassment unexplained to Mitsui.  
  
"Everything should be done by then," replied Fuji.  
  
"Nakamichi-dono, can you walk?" asked Miller.  
  
She moved her legs to dangle off the side of the bed, and pushed herself off until her feet planted onto to the cold floor. She straightened up slowly and reassured them with a smile. "Well, I can stand." She took a deep breath and a step away from the bed, surprised at the feat and when she tried to turn around to face the men, she lost her balance. The shooting guard caught her, and the younger guard instinctively moved to her side. Reiko wrinkled her nose in disappointment. "Perhaps I shouldn't move so quickly."  
  
"Okay. we're just gonna have to carry you then, Nakamichi-dono," said Fuji, his hand rubbing the back of his head. "We brought your clothes with us, perhaps you might be more comfortable in them than in that standard issue hospital gown." She smiled at him. "Miller will be asking the doctor to have you released and I'll have the Suburban up front. Mitsui- san, do you think you can help carry her out of here?"  
  
"Yeah, no prob," he said as he looked at his stretch partner.  
  
The three men stepped outside to give her privacy to change. Cracking the door open to signal she was done, Mitsui knocked twice before poking his head inside.  
  
"Ready?" he asked with a little mischief in his voice. Nodding, she reached around his neck and draped her arm behind his shoulders and held onto the shooting guard as he lifted her off the cold floor, strong arms snugly suspending her against his chest. Taking the gym bag with them, they left the room to meet the two guards in the front, receiving quizzical looks from the nurses and visitors on the floor.  
  
Each step of the way, the shooting guard's mind swam with questions. Mitsui had not a clue of what she and her guards had just talked about. It felt strange for him to be there, to hear their conversation, to feel as if they didn't want him to know what was said. He couldn't help but wonder why Reiko responded the way she did to something he didn't know anything about. Even if he wanted to know, he didn't know how to ask her for fear of garnering the same despondent look from her. As he walked down the corridor that led to the automatic sliding doors of the emergency bay, he felt her tremble as a gust of cold wind blew through the hallway as the doors slid open. He stopped and told her softly that he was going to put her down for a moment, and after doing so, he took her warm-up jacket from the gym bag and gave it to her.  
  
Zipping the warmth of her body within, she thanked her stretch partner and was again lifted up from where she stood. Seconds passed. She stirred within his strong arms.  
  
"Are you uncomfortable?" the shooting guard asked.  
  
Reiko faintly shook her head as she stifled a yawn. "Not at all." Blinking a few times, she mumbled, "Forgive me, I'm afraid I don't have all my faculties functioning fully." As another gust of wind blew through the irregular opening and closing of the sliding doors, she clasped the head of the zipper just below the hollow of her throat and tucked her head against her stretch partner's chest, eyes closed. Mitsui reactively held her tighter against his chest.  
  
"Is Fuji-san coming yet?" she feebly asked, her frail voice hinting impatience. As soon as she asked, the black Suburban pulled up in front of the entrance.  
  
"He's here now," Mitsui replied, hurrying to get her out of the cold and into the warm interior of the vehicle. Fuji rounded the front and opened the door for them, Miller surprising both Fuji and the shooting guard as he opened the front passenger door. Still in his arms, Mitsui noticed that Reiko was slowly giving in to sleep. Worry stirred within him once more. "Fuji-san, do you think we're taking her home too soon?"  
  
"We have no choice, we have to get her home. It'll be the safest place for her to stay," Fuji said as he strapped himself in.  
  
"What's an immersion chamber?"  
  
"We'll explain when we get there," he said, yielding to oncoming traffic before speeding through the intersection.  
  
  
  
Sakai nodded at Jackson as he held a leg of the broken chair behind them. He held up three fingers and counted down, and at zero Jackson threw the wooden piece across. Shots rang out, the chair leg bombarded with a hail of bullets and Sakai took a quick peek to survey the situation. There, by the shower stalls, stood the wretched professor with Nanami in a choke hold and a Smith and Wesson double action handgun, his wretched brow furled in concentration at the wooden target flying across his view. Pulling his head back behind the wall, Sakai held up 4 fingers, then five, signaling right, then signing Nanami's name with his hand. Jackson nodded.  
  
"Give up, you spineless bastard! As much as you abhor women, it's funny how you have to hide behind one to protect yourself!" Jackson voice roared.  
  
"What?! You dull-witted buffoon!"  
  
Once more Jackson threw parts of the broken chair across, and the professor shot at the object in mid-air yet again. Ayako and the rest of the volleyball team huddled closer to each other and suppressed their cries with terrified whimpers. All this time, the guards had been keeping count of the number of shots fired. Finally, the sound of clicking metal echoed throughout the locker room, and Jackson took a gamble. Before Sakai could blink, Jackson rose from his crouch and charged through the locker room, spotting the arm that locked around the setter's slender neck, took aim, and fired.  
  
Blood splattered across Nanami's cheek as the professor screamed in exquisite pain, pushing the setter forward at the burly guard. The injured man turned around and headed toward the cowering ladies.  
  
"Oh, no you don't!" he yelled, shooting the professor in the leg, and the gun he held in his hand slid away from him when his body fell onto the hard floor.  
  
Hearing the gun sliding on the ground, Ayako raised her head and quickly stood up to kick the gun away from the writhing professor, his face contorted in pain. As soon as they saw the basketball manager get up, the whole team followed suit, kicking the downed man instead in his torso and everywhere else they could. Catching his breath, Jackson heaved a sigh and tried to suppress a chuckle as he watched the professor get physically beaten by people he considered no-good second-class citizens. Sakai walked up to his bulky colleague with a smile on his face as he placed Miller's gun in his holster.  
  
"Why'd you keep him alive?" Sakai asked, hands casually digging into his pockets.  
  
"For this," answered Jackson, his grin growing wider and wider by the second, the ladies looming over the professor ranting the words 'take that' and 'piece of shit' at their fallen oppressor.  
  
Both older guards stood by, a surge of satisfaction coursing through their veins.  
  
  
  
"Reiko-san," Mitsui whispered in her ear, "we're home now."  
  
She drifted in and out of consciousness all the way home, her body weak and close to his, and the shooting guard carried her from the Suburban all the way through the front door, following the pair of younger guards. Instructing Mitsui to set her on the living room couch, Fuji ran to the stairwell and descended down the steps to the basement, disappearing from the shooting guard's view. As quickly as he could, Miller went upstairs and grabbed the blankets from her room and her brother's. Hurrying downstairs, he told Mitsui to drape them one by one over Reiko.  
  
"Why does she need all these blankets?" the shooting guard asked.  
  
"Her slipping in and out of consciousness is a sign of the chills to come. I've seen this happen before," Miller explained, his phone vibrating against his hip. Stepping away, he answered in a hushed tone. "This is Miller. yeah, are you guys okay?... I'm all right. Fuji's downstairs filling the immersion chamber, and Mitsui-san's helping me with --. yes, he's still here." Miller met Mitsui's eyes and smiled as he listened to Jackson on the other line, turning his eyes away. "It'll take about fifteen minutes to fill it, another fifteen to -- . I don't know. do you think it's okay?..."  
  
Mitsui tried to ignore Miller's conversation and looked at his stretch partner fast asleep on the couch, slightly shaking as if she had chills as Miller had predicted.  
  
"It won't be easy. I'll do my best. I'll have Fuji pick you guys up." Miller hung up and heaved a sigh. He hobbled forward to the curious- looking shooting guard. "Mitsui-san, there's something you need to know." He jerked his head toward the main hallway and Mitsui followed the limping guard into the kitchen.  
  
"You're a very likeable and decent man, Mitsui-san, and for this reason we feel the need to tell you what's going to happen to her in the next few hours." Miller paused to lean on the kitchen counter. "Nakamichi- dono. she's not as perfect as you think."  
  
Mitsui's eyes widened. // What is he talking about? //  
  
"When she was born, she wasn't exactly the healthiest kid. She wasn't expected to live."  
  
"What?"  
  
Miller hesitated. "Her blood wasn't normal. I'm not too sure how... all I know is how she deals with it." Miller took a glass and filled it with water. He motioned Mitsui to follow him into the living room.  
  
"Dr. Nakamichi poured all his time into research to find a way to give her normal blood cells, and he did. But." Miller looked sadly at the woman passed out on the leather couch. "As time passes, her blood becomes saturated with toxins. To keep her normal, she has to undergo a filtration process every year, and it usually fall on her birthday. She's extremely allergic to bee stings, and the dart she got shot with was full of insect venom. Just the reaction she has to it multiplies her toxin level by ten fold, and for this reason we have to get her into the immersion chamber as soon as possible."  
  
"Okay, but I don't understand why she got so sad when you mentioned this immersion chamber," whispered Mitsui as he watched the younger guard place the glass of water onto the coffee table.  
  
Fuji entered the room before Miller could come up with an answer. "The chamber's ready. What's going on?"  
  
Miller shrugged. "Nothing much. Jackson called. They got the professor and they need to be picked up now."  
  
"'Kay. Let's get Nakamichi-dono in now -"  
  
"Don't worry about that, Mitsui-san will help me."  
  
"All right then. The mask is by the control board, I've already set the current." Turning his gaze at the shooting guard, Fuji flashed a weak smile. "Take good care of her, Mitsui-san." The shooting guard nodded his promise.  
  
Fuji left through the back door and left the two men to watch over a sleeping Reiko.  
  
"I don't have to explain to you why she gets depressed every time she goes into the chamber. You'll have your answer soon enough." Miller placed a hand over his forehead and ironed out the worried creases of his brow. Turning to the shooting guard, he added, "This is the only part of about this job I truly, truly hate... I'm aware of your affections for her, Mitsui-san, and because of that, you're going to be the most affected with the outcome. I ask that you steel yourself and keep your emotions at bay, if not for her, then for your sanity."  
  
Something within Mitsui snapped and fear flooded within him. "W-what will I see, Miller-san?"  
  
Momentarily closing his eyes, the younger guard opened them to look at Reiko in peaceful slumber, her state soon to be thrown into unnatural, transitory madness. "It's not so much what you'll see that'll bother you." He wordlessly motioned for Mitsui to pick Reiko up off the couch, a faint whimper escaping her lips as she curled against him like a child. The shooting guard nodded and gathered her in his strapping yet gentle grasp and followed Miller down the basement. As they descended, Miller spoke over his shoulder. "It's the sound that will drive you to the cliffs of torture."  
  
Mitsui did not like what he heard one bit, his whole being filling with dread as they walked into the workout room of the basement. The white walls of the room were blinding under the bright fluorescent lights of the ceiling. Miller walked behind the bench press and all Mitsui could see was his back for a second, and the wall moving forward the next. It was as if he had stepped into a mystery novel, where secret panels gave way to hidden corridors and dimly lit dens, except the room's light was far from dim with its bright light shining from the corner were the tiled floor turned. Upon turning the corner, Mitsui's mouth gaped at the sight of a large acrylic cylinder filled with water; it was the size of several large refrigerators put together whose capacity could easily hold over five hundred gallons of liquid. Its top was exposed and one could see tiny heat currents that rose from the bottom of the cylinder to the surface of the water. His eyes following the currents, his gaze rested on two cables attached to metal leads that dipped just several inches into the water. By the lip of the enormous cylinder of water was a grooved steel platform with a retractable metal walkway and railing.  
  
// She's supposed to be in THAT thing? //  
  
"We have to undress her first, Mitsui-san," said Miller in a low, diffident tone as he reached for the zipper of Reiko's warm-up jacket. The shooting guard shot him an incredulous look.  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Just do it, Mitsui-san, ask questions later." Miller turned around and ambled as fast as he could to the control board, checking the settings that Fuji had made earlier.  
  
// I can't believe this... // The shooting guard's face flushed in awkwardness as he fumbled to unclasp the zipper head. After two tries he finally succeeded, and he proceeded to pull the garment's sleeves off her limp arms. She was completely passed out; he placed a finger against her throat to check for a pulse just to ease his suspicions of breathlessness. He then tugged at her warm-up pants, and the sight of her long toned legs reddened his cheeks even more and he had to look away for a moment, feeling like he had to hide his embarrassment.  
  
"Hurry, Mitsui-san. You can leave her undergarments on," urged Miller as he turned several dials.  
  
With much trepidation, Mitsui took a deep breath and pulled her shirt up until the sleeves slid off her wrists. He did not deny that he had at times imagined his stretch partner in clothing that showed a lot less skin, but his imagination wasn't grand or bold enough to continue on to nuder horizons. // This is no time to be thinking about that... // He never imagined to undress her in this fashion, and in the depths of his heart was a little prayer that begged for her forgiveness as he glanced briefly at the hollow of her throat. Hearing Miller walking towards him, he quickly averted his gaze and threw her clothing to the side, and as he propped her up in his arms, she roused. Groggy and disoriented, she reached out her hand and Mitsui took it.  
  
"Reiko-san, it's okay, you're at home. We're going to put you into the immersion chamber now," he said, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the soft skin of her hand.  
  
Her eyes cracked open and blinked, momentarily waxing lucid gray orbs as she tugged at the shooting guard's shirt.  
  
"Mitsui-san," she whispered, "I ask that you leave now."  
  
Somewhat distressed by her request, Mitsui refused to relent. "I can't, Reiko-san. Not until you get better."  
  
She feebly shook her head. "I cannot let you see me like this..."  
  
"It's okay, I don't really care what happens, I just want you to be all right."  
  
Reiko continued to shake her head. "You don't understand... please... leave..."  
  
With mask in hand, Miller stood alongside the crouched shooting guard with Reiko in his arms, hearing her quiet pitiable pleas. Mitsui looked up at him with indecision and confusion; the guard knew that she was trying to prevent Mitsui from changing her image in his mind. And yet...  
  
"Nakamichi-dono," Miller softly called out, bending on one knee to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. "Mitsui-san only wants to be near you." He took the mask and gently placed it over her head and lightly pressed it against her beautiful face. "But we shall soon see, Nakamichi-dono, if this is enough to drive him away. Everyone has to take risks..." he trailed off as he briefly looked Mitsui's way. "And in the end, it can only make you a better person for learning the truth about someone else." Miller took Reiko's hand in his and gave it a quick, reassuring squeeze. "Shall we find out, Nakamichi-dono?"  
  
Reiko closed her eyes and nodded in acquiescence.  
  
"Mitsui-san, kindly place her in the tank. But, before you do that..." Miller took a thin breathing hose hanging on a hook from above and attached it to the mouth piece of the mask, sealing it shut with a twist. "All right, she's good to go."  
  
The shooting guard lowered his stretch partner into the chamber until she was completely submerged, her eyes opening and closing to adjust to the underwater environment. Quickly descending the walkway, Miller made his way to the control board and flipped a few switches, adjusting a few dials and green lights lit the board's panel. Mitsui never took his eyes off her even as he stepped down the walkway, his gaze intensely watching her suspended form in the water, his heart anxious and beating at an accelerated rate. // Please be all right... // Mitsui stood beside Miller, silent and vigilant.  
  
Several minutes passed by and the shooting guard began to see a change in the water, its clear quality replaced with a murky, rusty color. Reiko bobbed up and down, her eyes occasionally opening to see through the reddish brown water.  
  
Seven minutes have passed, and Reiko began to jerk intermittently within the chamber, the water closer to the surface spilling out of the cylinder and dripping down its sides. The water had grown progressively darker, and her fair skin helped both men to see her through the murky water.  
  
"How long must she stay in there?" asked Mitsui as he walked closer to the immersion chamber.  
  
"Thirteen more minutes," Miller answered as he turned a few dials clockwise.  
  
"Fuji-san mentioned something about a current... what's that all about?"  
  
"It's an electric current."  
  
Mitsui whipped his head back at Miller who manipulated the dials once more. "You mean to tell me that you're running an electric current in the water?!"  
  
"It's a weak one, Mitsui-san."  
  
Mitsui marched toward Miller, his face masked with disbelief. "How could this work? It's nothing short of electrocuting her!"  
  
Miller heaved a sigh as he shook his head. "I had the same reaction when I first saw this process... but it's really quite simple. Rather than having an invasive procedure where her blood is dialyzed, Dr. Nakamichi found this way to be a lot less invasive and allows for a faster healing time. The ions are pulled out of her body one substrate at a time. But.... I'm afraid we have to pull her out a lot sooner than as planned, she's too weak to begin with."  
  
The shooting guard glanced back at his suspended partner, floating in the chamber with her eyes closed. He knew that this was what Miller meant when he was told to steel himself. He knew he could take it, and he was yet to expect the sound he was warned about. Five more minutes passed by and the water had turned into a dark red clay hue. Mitsui ascended the walkway and spoke to Miller.  
  
"Hasn't she gone through enough? The water's so dark!"  
  
"If she doesn't stay in there long enough, she'll have to go through this again and she will suffer longer!"  
  
Mitsui wanted to do something, but he didn't know what. He was powerless and without knowledge of how any of this worked; all he could see was the woman he loved suspended lifelessly in the huge cylinder of water, having gone through more than just the loss of her family in her life. He couldn't fathom the fact that every year, she had to be submerged in currents of water and electricity to keep herself alive... no wonder she wasn't happy to hear about the immersion chamber. And all this for what? She was alone. It must be hard for her to summon within herself the will to live when the ones she loved most had long passed away. It must have been difficult. How hollow and empty she must have felt... She probably expected him to leave, to not see her during her most vulnerable of times, and again she would face another facet of her life in solitude, harboring her secret and her broken heart... // Could this be the reason why she hesitates to love me back? //  
  
He refused to answer his own query. She would answer it herself. His hands balled into fists by his sides as he shut his eyes in frustration. By now, fifteen minutes have passed, and the water was akin to the color of dried blood. Miller flipped the switches and leaned forward against the control board.  
  
"Now, Mitsui-san!"  
  
The shooting guard thrust his hand into the murky waters and felt for Reiko, pulling her out by the arm and laying her onto the steel platform, her breathing mask still on. Miller ambled as fast as he could to the stretch partners and screwed the breathing hose off the mask's mouth piece, and as soon as her mouth was exposed the same dark liquid gushed from her mouth as she coughed and gasped for air. Her body trembled sporadically, and Miller took his suit jacket off and wrapped it around her.  
  
"We have to get her cleaned. Bring her upstairs to her brother's bathroom."  
  
Without delay they left the hidden laboratory and ascended the stairs to her brother's bathroom. Miller trailed behind Mitsui and his precious bundle, heading directly to the linen closet in the bathroom. He pulled several towels out and set them to the side next to the bathtub. As he waited for Miller to draw a warm bath for her, Mitsui vividly remembered the details of the large bathroom, how he dressed himself in her older brother's suit... he looked down at her unconscious face. "It's gonna be okay, Reiko-san..."  
  
Soap bubbles coated the surface of the water in the tub and Miller asked the shooting guard if he could clean her up. Pointing to his wounded leg, Miller told him that he wouldn't be of much help. "I have to tell the others that she's out of the chamber. I'll be downstairs to send word to Dr. Nakamichi. The intercom's right there if you need me. I'll come back in a few minutes. Oh, and Mitsui-san, all her clothes have to come off for this. We don't want the metallic smell to linger on her."  
  
Miller left the wide-eyed shooting guard in the bathroom, Reiko's form trembling and dripping liquid down his arms. Taking a folded towel, he placed it at the end of the tub and rested her head gently on it as he laid her body into the warm bath. Making sure she stayed stationary, he scoured the bathroom for scissors. Finding one from one of the cabinets, he unfolded another towel and placed it on the water over her body. Taking a deep breath, his jaw clenched as he felt for her sports bra under the water, pulled on it and cut it of with the scissors, carefully avoiding his fingers and at the same time keeping the towel over her. // God, why am I such a prude? // He didn't want to see anything he had no permission of seeing from her, and the pads of his fingers burned as he traced her bodyline to her hip and finally her underwear. Making it swift, he cut the fabric on the left and right sides of her pelvis, and soon the detached undergarments floated on the surface of the soapy water. The towel over her soaked in the water and he used it to obstruct her nakedness past the bubbles on the surface. Finding a bath sponge, he plunged it into the water and began to lightly scrub away the evidence of her frailty. // That's funny, I don't smell anything metallic on her at all... //  
  
Reiko's eyes opened and it startled Mitsui, the shooting guard letting go of his hold on her and the sponge quickly forgotten. She blinked twice, focusing on her surroundings, and finally gaze met Mitsui's gaping look.  
  
It seemed like they stared at each other for hours in silence, Mitsui's eyes fixed to her wraithlike gaze, her eyes orbs of gray emptiness studying his face.  
  
"I'm out of the chamber," she mumbled flatly, her eyes moving to the bubbly surface of the warm water. Moving her hand to scoop the suds, she looked at the white foam blankly, and Mitsui didn't know what to expect next.  
  
"How do you feel, Reiko-san?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty, recalling of what she had told him before they got into the Suburban and left the hospital. // She's been through a lot... //  
  
"Very... very... light..." she trailed off as she leaned her head back slowly against the folded towel.  
  
He continued what Miller had asked him to do. Mitsui found it awkward to be in the bathroom with Reiko naked in the bathtub and his fumbling hands moving the bath sponge against her silky smooth skin. She didn't seem to mind. His touch even seemed oblivious to her. He felt like she didn't even know who he was. Holding his tongue, he proceeded to wash her thick locks of hair, a whimper escaping her throat as he poured warm water over her head. // Don't lose focus, Mitsui, just finish the job... // The shooting guard pulled the drain plug and let the water drain, and as the water receded, the towel over her conformed to her soaked figure, making it hard for Mitsui to concentrate on what to do next. // Towel her dry... //  
  
"Can you stand up, Reiko-san?" he asked, hoping she would say yes. Not waiting for an answer, he lifted her out of the bath, and after steadying her onto her feet, he draped another towel around her, tucking it in the front before pulling the wet one that covered her front side down to the floor. The sound of footsteps from the staircase made Mitsui turn his head to the bathroom door and Miller emerged in the room.  
  
"Thanks for helping, Mitsui-san," the guard said as he took a terry cloth bathrobe from behind the door. "They're on their way home." Miller gave the robe to the shooting guard and in a few seconds the towel around her was removed. Miller leaned his back against the sink, elbows supporting his weight. He heaved a sigh. "It's been a long day."  
  
Mitsui couldn't agree more. Bad men, poison darts, guns, running and chasing, the antiseptic smell of the hospital, the immersion chamber, the bath... Miller's sigh was infectious. Mitsui paused to breathe. // What else could go wrong? //  
  
At that instant, Reiko fell forward, unconscious, caught by Mitsui's strong arm.  
  
"Oh shit," Miller said as he stepped forward the couple. He felt for her carotid pulse then proceeded to check her eyes. "Quick, get her onto the bed!"  
  
Tension rose within Mitsui once more and he carried Reiko onto her brother's bed, her hair still wet and dripping droplets of water on the covers. Upon laying her on the bed, Reiko opened her eyes and this time, the look in her eyes frightened Mitsui. It was the look of madness.  
  
"Miller-san, what's going on with -"  
  
"Never mind that now, hurry and get the covers over her, tuck the ends under the mattress!" barked the guard. Doing as he was told, Mitsui took one side of the bed and Miller the other, spreading the covers over her and tucking it as tightly as they could. The shooting guard looked at her once more, Reiko's jaw clenched as she continued to stare madly ahead, the muscles in her neck contracted and visibly taut. It was then she began to scream.  
  
"Nooooo!!!"  
  
Before Mitsui could ask any more questions, Miller pulled him by the arm and shoved him outside the room. "Go downstairs and listen to some music full blast in the music room. You don't need to hear her."  
  
The shooting guard saw her flail and thrash under the covers, screaming once more at the top of her lungs, her head arched in extension into the pillow. "Mom!!! Dad!!! Nooo!!!" Every fiber of Mitsui's being jumped at the sound, his heart racing at the sight of her writhing.  
  
"Please, Mitsui-san, go. The music room downstairs has an entertainment system. Go now."  
  
"What the hell's happening to her?!"  
  
"Get your ass downstairs, Mitsui-san! Now!" Miller barked, pushing the shooting guard away from the door. Quickly stepping out of the room, Miller closed the door behind him, leaving the shooting guard's stretch partner alone with her blood-curdling shrieks and screams. Wincing as he descended the stairs, Miller hobbled into the foyer to the flat screen panel. Picking up the phone, he pushed a button and spoke.  
  
"Are you guys here yet?!" he asked impatiently, his voice full of worry and insecurity. "Hurry, she's going crazy!"  
  
The sound of screeching tires drew Miller's attention to the front door. Opening it, his fellow guards ran into the house, Jackson carrying a straightjacket.  
  
"Where is she?" Jackson asked as they all ascended the stairs, Reiko's shouts growing louder and louder.  
  
"In Hideki's room," replied Miller who trailed behind all three guards.  
  
"And Mitsui-san?"  
  
Jackson opened the door and entered the room, quickly stopping in his tracks, Fuji and Sakai doing the same as Miller answered behind them. "He's in the music room, listening to -"  
  
Miller joined his colleagues as they stood like frozen statues with eyes fixed at Reiko, every muscle in her body struggling to contract and thrash her body around and Mitsui, holding her from behind, his grip the only thing preventing her from hurling herself wildly onto the floor.  
  
"Mom!! Dad!! Don't die!!! Onii-san!! Onee-san!! Don't leave me!!!"  
  
She continued to scream and fight the shooting guard's forceful grip, and an occasional backhand hit Mitsui in the face. He was unmoved, though the tears that lined his cheeks displayed his sympathy for his stretch partner.  
  
"No, don't leave me!!! Oh God!!! Please take me with them!!! I beg You!!!"  
  
The guards looked on in disbelief. No one, not one of them had ever been able to hold her down this long with her pitiful cries for her deceased parents. Every year she would have hallucinations, and every time they manifested Reiko's initial reactions to the heartbreaking news of her family's demise. It was too personal for all of them to hear her scream in agony, for each guard had a personal connection to the death of her family, either with the members of her family or the bodyguards that perished with them in the plane crash. This was the side-effect of the immersion chamber: it sent her into temporary flights of insanity that haunted them of the past they longed to forget. The younger guards turned their gazes aside, finally resolving to leave the room in silence, their brows furrowed at remembering the day they received news that their fathers were dead. Sakai soon followed suit, his face grimacing at the memory of the plane spiraling out of control into the sea that flashed in his mind. He had to close his eyes and wish with all his heart that the accident never happened. Jackson remained in the room, still in his place, words escaping him as he continued to look at Reiko's struggle from the shooting guard's hold.  
  
Losing nerve to his fingers, the straightjacket in his hand fell onto the floor, and Jackson was too deep in thought to even notice. His eyes began to leak tears, and he quickly wiped them away with the palm of his hand before stepping out of the room. He and the other guards did not stray far from the bedroom door, each of them in their own world as Reiko's cries toned down into miserable, pitiful whimpers.  
  
"Take every possession... take everything I own... take my intelligence... take my strength... God, I don't care if I become a weak simpleton... just let someone remain for me... please give them back to me... I wish this solitude to end... I beg of You..."  
  
Her words made Mitsui's eyes spill more tears of pity; his suspicions of her loneliness were confirmed, and he never felt so powerless before in his life. There was nothing he could do to make her family come back, to make her wish come true. He could feel her labored sobs against his chest, and the heat from her skin burned her emotions into his touch. Her words broke his spirit.  
  
Sagging into a sitting posture against the doorframe and walls, the guards heard every word of her prayer as they sat in vigilance, and they were moved to tears.  
  
For Jackson and Sakai, surviving the crash was an unfair hand dealt by God, for their sole responsibility was to give their lives up for the Nakamichi family so that they may live. They felt as if they had failed.  
  
For Fuji and Miller, surviving the death of their fathers was an event that they were able to endure, despite the pain of their loss. They had their families to comfort and support them. In one accident, Reiko had none. Their fathers' fates were harsh. Hers was harsher.  
  
Her sobs finally quieted down, and she fell asleep even as tears streamed from her eyes. She was exhausted; her whole body had expended all energy from her both mentally and physically, and Mitsui eased his hold on her and remained in his position, her back resting against his chest. He gently pulled the covers around her and embraced her, enveloping her with what little comfort he could give even if she wasn't conscious of it, hoping that the worst of this day had passed. He wiped his own tears away, trying not to alter his breathing while she slept.  
  
// Dear God... how do I take this pain away from her? //  
  
Hours passed and the phone rang downstairs, jolting the guards from their vigil. Sakai went downstairs to answer the phone. After a minute or so, the guard ascended the stairs and motioned for the other guards' attention.  
  
"That was Dr. Nakamichi. He'll be at the airport soon."  
  
The rest of the guards stood quietly from their crouched positions, the somber look on their faces still lingering. Taking a peek inside the bedroom, Jackson saw Reiko's body rested against Mitsui, both fast asleep, the poor shooting guard likely worn out by the day's events, and she by the immersion chamber. The burly guard motioned for them to descend the stairs quietly. Gathering at the bottom of the stairs, Jackson kept his voice low.  
  
"It's been a hectic day, guys... let's just take another breather. In a few hours, Dr. Nakamichi will be here. Fuji, take the Benz later when you pick him up. Sakai, you and Miller have our report ready. I'll go clean up down at the basement."  
  
They dispersed from the main hallway of the house, each set out to do what was said, trying to place their minds out of depressing nostalgia back to sound equilibrium. Before Jackson descended the stairs to the basement, he looked up at Hideki's room and thought back to the sleeping stretch partners.  
  
It had been a long day. He silently hoped that things would be better tomorrow.  
  
That they would all be better tomorrow.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Reiko woke up to the sound of rain pattering against the skylight's dome. She felt horrible, like someone had tossed her into a blender and forgotten to take her out. She rolled over, and as she did she heard a groan from behind her. Eyes wide, she slowly looked behind her. It was a total surprise to her to find the shooting guard still with her, under the covers with her and in his arms. A fleeting look of sadness crossed her fair visage; he had seen and heard everything. He probably knows what happened to her parents, her brother and sister. Before she could even begin to shed tears, Mitsui pulled her closer against him, and should she struggle against his firm hold, it would be in vain. She didn't feel any stronger after her slumber, and she could feel her mouth tingle in pain as she clenched her jaw. Her stomach rumbled for food but she didn't have an appetite, and it woke the shooting guard.  
  
Rubbing his eyes, Mitsui quickly looked at his encircled stretch partner, propping himself on one elbow to see her face. As he moved her body lay flat on the bed, revealing a conscious Reiko, blinking to focus on his face.  
  
"You're awake," he whispered, releasing his hold around her abdomen. "How do you feel?"  
  
"I need food, but I do not think I can chew... it hurts," she mumbled as she reached for her throat. "Could you help me to stand, Mitsui-san? I need to get some water."  
  
"No, that's okay," he replied as he sat up. "You stay here, I'll get you the water and some food." He took a pillow and lifted her head to rest on it, and as he got off the bed he secured tucked her under the covers.  
  
Mitsui hurried down the stairs to the kitchen where he took a glass and filled it with water. He opened the refrigerator to find anything she could eat, and he took the plate of grapes that sat on the second shelf. Taking the glass and the plate, he returned upstairs to her brother's room. He was afraid that she wouldn't do as he told her and was relieved to find her still in bed, her eyes fixed at the falling rain against the skylight dome. Setting the food aside, he took another pillow and propped her up to a sitting position. Mitsui took the glass of water and supported the back of her neck as she drank, her throat moving in slow undulation as she drank all of it. Setting that aside, he took the plate and gave her one big succulent grape. He offered it to her, and she tried to open her mouth to accommodate its size, but stopped midway.  
  
"I don't think I can eat, Mitsui-san... it's going to hurt me," she said.  
  
"How will it hurt you?"  
  
"My mouth hurts when clench my jaw."  
  
Lowering his hand, he paused to think of another way to feed her.  
  
"It's all right, Mitsui-san. I'll just wait until it passes."  
  
Finding delay unacceptable, Mitsui decided. "Reiko-san, you have to eat. It's been more than twelve hours since you last ate. I can't let you waste away. Let me help you." He placed the grape in his mouth and began to chew.  
  
"How?"  
  
Mitsui reached for her and pressed his mouth against hers, her eyes wide as saucers as she tasted the gush of grape juice in her mouth. She eased as she understood his effort to help, and her throat moved to receive his help. He relinquished her lips and withdrew, her eyes fixed at him in soft surprise.  
  
"Forgive me, Reiko-san. I don't know how else to feed you. There's nothing else in the refrigerator."  
  
She gently shook her head. "No, you've done so much for me, Mitsui- san. How am I going to repay you..." she trailed off, her gaze falling on her lap.  
  
"You don't owe me anything," he said, lifting her face up with his finger below her chin. "In fact, I owe you everything."  
  
She tilted her head in inquiry. "How can that be?"  
  
The shooting guard's touch strayed up to the softness of her cheek. "You are everything that makes me happy. And for that, I would give you my all."  
  
Her eyes remained fixed on his for some time, his handsome face sincere as his words. "You know now, everything pitiful and sad about me. Did you choose to stay out of pity?"  
  
Mitsui faintly smiled and shook his head. "No, I chose to stay because of something more profound than that." He took another grape in his mouth, crushed it with strong jaws and took captive of his stretch partner's lips once more. She let him feed her this way, her face flushing with heat as she took his sweet offering without resistance, her eyes closed. Consuming every bit, she opened her eyes to find Mitsui's face just inches away from her blushing cheeks.  
  
"I chose to stay because I love you."  
  
She was overwhelmed with heat, her skin warm to the touch as he closed the distance between them and reclaimed her lips again, the sugary taste of his lips lingering as she returned his fervent kiss. 


	19. Chapter 19

The first part of the song mentioned below is usually first sung by a male actor playing Raoul in 'The Phantom of the Opera'

The first part of the song mentioned below is usually first sung by a male actor playing Raoul in 'The Phantom of the Opera'. In the musical, Raoul is trying to dispel Christine's fears of a phantom she had heard and seen 'inside her mind'. The song is a duet with Christine called 'All I Ask of You'.

I apologize for the length of this installment.

Thank you for reading.

iron kitty

* * *

Mitsui felt as if time had stood still and his hands lost themselves in the thickness of her hair, the softness of her lips against his made his heart race and his skin sear with heat. Moments passed and he felt a gentle nudge against his chest, disengaging despite the cry from within for a few seconds more of the gentle yet intoxicating press of her lips. He watched her curious eyes peer into his in azure inquiry, blinking a shade deeper as he brought the pad of his thumb to graze gently over her lower lip, and he could feel her take the air in between them. Closing her eyes, she withdrew and sunk back in her pillowed seat, making Mitsui wonder if she began to regret the contact.

"Reiko-san…?"

Bringing the back of her hand to her forehead, she blinked once more. "I'm burning up…" She lowered her hand and made a fist, opening and closing it, her eyes flashing brighter as her gaze traveled from her forearm to her arm. "There it is again, Mitsui-san…" She wore a faint smile.

Taken aback, Mitsui leaned forward. "Are you all right?"

"This tingling I feel only happens whenever I'm with you."

/ It must be contagious… I feel it, too … / He smiled. "Is it bad?"

She paused to glance down at her forearm, supinating it to look into the palm of her hand and finally at the tips of her fingers. Tracing the path where his thumb touched her lip, she lowered her hand and shook her head. "It's not unpleasant." Then, in a nervous whisper, "I'm lost, Mitsui-san... This is the direction you've pointed me to… where do I go from here?"

"Wherever you choose… I'll be there with you," he said, finding her hand and taking it into his.

They sat there and looked at each other in silence, blue upon brown eyes, her gaze finally breaking away to fall on his thick, warm hand linked to hers.

* * *

"Welcome back to Japan, Dr. Nakamichi," Fuji greeted, taking the doctor's luggage and loading it in the trunk after opening the back passenger side door.

"I'd prefer to sit up front, Fuji-kun."

Buckling up, they drove off from the airport. The streets were sparse with cars and even fewer people on the sidewalks, most of the denizens of the town sound asleep in their beds. Tak Nakamichi vaguely remembered Kanagawa; he could only remembered bits and pieces of childhood memories where he used to walk and play. They passed an outdoor basketball court, reminding him of Reiko and Mitsui.

"How is she doing?" he asked, his thumb tapping against the arm rest of the door.

"She was asleep the last time we checked... um… in Mitsui-san's arms."

The doctor turned his head at the young guard and arched a sardonic brow. "Oh really?"

"We don't think he meant to, sir. He held her down all the time she - … she had her reactions to the treatment."

He was quieted by guard's statement. Poor Reiko, he thought as he leaned his chin against his fisted hand.

They pulled up to the driveway of the estate and the doctor immediately got out of the car. Fuji trailed behind him with Dr. Nakamichi's small luggage in tow, and the rest of the bodyguards stood in front of the French doors, bowing.

"Welcome home, sir," they greeted in unison. Standing erect, they all received handshakes from the doctor, Jackson opening the front door and they all filed in behind him. They found themselves standing in the foyer of the house with Dr. Nakamichi instructing Fuji to open his luggage. Obeying his command, Fuji laid the small baggage on the marble counter by the telephone, clicked it open and held the top of the luggage up for him to see. Inside was a shiny black kit with a zipper bordering its three sides, a few articles of clothing and a laptop computer. Taking the kit, Dr. Nakamichi unzipped it and laid it open for inspection, displaying several vials of liquid and syringes.

"Is she still asleep?" he asked in a hush tone.

"She woke up a few minutes ago. She's in the music room, sir," answered Jackson.

The guards looked at the physician's paraphernalia warily; they were not unfamiliar with the tranquilizing liquid contained in the little vials, its narcotic power enough to knock Reiko out into next week. Her uncle had to use them only twice, once when she was five and the second time when her family died. To her uncle, this kit ultimately subdued his niece physically, and it was to be used only at times when even the guards cannot control her convulsions and erratic behavior. Dr. Nakamichi eyed the kit and took a deep breath. He had to find another way to keep her alive without breaking her.

"What time is it?" the doctor asked.

Looking down at his watch, Sakai answered. "It's three in the morning, sir."

Dr. Nakamichi took a good look at the four guards, all of them worn out and drained from the day's struggles, the bags under their eyes proof of their weariness and Miller's bandaged thigh evidence of their scuffle. "Thank you for taking care of my niece, gentlemen… you've saved this aging man from dying of a broken heart."

Receiving a few smiles from the guards, he zipped the kit closed and took it out from his luggage. "I'm sorry you had to see her go through this… I'm working on a different kind of cleansing technique for her, one that won't drive her mad, I hope…" Heaving a quiet sigh, he looked at Jackson. "Has she eaten anything?"

"I didn't see her eat, sir, but she claims to have eaten a few of the grapes Yoshi sent her."

"That's good… well, I'll go to my niece now. Take a rest, gentlemen. You all look tired. Feel free to sleep in, I'll look after Rei. What time does Yoshi's restaurant open for lunch?"

"At noon, sir," replied Miller.

"Very good. We can all have a leisurely lunch at Yoshi's."

"Would you like the report then, sir?"

"Yes, that would be fine, Jackson. Thank you. If you'll excuse me…"

All four bodyguards watched Dr. Nakamichi leave for the music room, and they could feel their tense muscles ease at the thought of him taking care of Reiko.

"Where's Mitsui-san?" asked Fuji, his eyes looking up the stairs.

"Still asleep." Sakai took his hands out of his pockets. "Maybe we should get some before the sun rises."

They all walked out of the house through the back door, their fatigued bodies yearning for the comfort of their beds and restful dreams from the Sandman.

* * *

He found her sitting on the leather couch in front of the television, her eyes glued to the moving pictures on the screen and a lady dressed in a shimmering white gown. The music room was close to sound proof, with double glass doors that led to its interior and retractable walls that attached to the doors which held sound in. Upon cracking the door open, the sound of an orchestra playing escaped from the walls of the music room, and he entered the room without Reiko noticing. Gazing at the television, he smiled as he watched the woman in the white evening gown sing soft haunting notes with a soprano voice, the melodious tones filling the room with hair-raising emotion. Midori always did have a beautiful voice, he thought.

After ending on a high note, the woman bowed to a standing ovation, roses and flower bouquets tossed at her feet as shouts for an encore erupted from the crowd.

"Isn't your sister lovely?" Dr. Nakamichi said loudly as he walked across the hardwood floor, depositing the black kit onto the side table by the couch.

Reiko turned her head and her eyes grew wide with excitement. "Uncle Tak!" She forced her body to stand up straight and took sure, careful steps toward her uncle. Dr. Nakamichi scooped her up and whirled her like she was a child again.

"I told you I'd come for your birthday," he said as he let her down. "Say, look at that… your eyes weren't this blue the last time I saw you."

"That's because you're here!" she childishly declared with a toothy grin, making her uncle laugh.

"All right, before you get too excited, tell me how you feel."

She tilted her head to look at the high ceiling. "Even though I feel fine, I still find it hard to react the way I want to. My mind is alert yet my body is sluggish."

"You don't feel like you need to throw up?"

She shook her head. "I even ate something." Upon saying this, her cheeks took on a scarlet shade.

"So Jackson says," Dr. Nakamichi replied, taking a seat on the couch as Reiko sat close to him and turned off the television. "Did you get the grapes yourself?"

"Mitsui-san got them for me." Her brows raised in surprise. "Uncle Tak, how did you know he fed me grapes?"

"Jackson told me you ate some grapes."

She felt her uncle's studying gaze upon her and she blushed even deeper. "My mouth hurt every time I clenched my jaws. Mitsui-san told me the grapes were all he could find in the refrigerator for me to eat."

"Where is he?" he asked, looking out the glass doors.

"He fell asleep a little while ago."

"Oh." Dr. Nakamichi couldn't suppress his paternal instinct from surfacing. "Rei, I was told that he fell asleep with you some hours ago… He… didn't do anything... to you, did he?"

Astonished at her uncle, she gave him a wincing, embarrassed look. "He kissed me, Uncle Tak."

Exposing the whites of his eyes in ready rage, his voice was nothing short of an explosion. "He WHAT? Did he defile you?"

Shaking her head briskly, she placed a calming hand on her uncle's forearm. "No, Uncle Tak, he did nothing of the sort..." she trailed off, her eyes averting to the glass coffee table. Seconds passed, and in a quiet, childlike whisper, she declared, "He told me that he loves me, Uncle Tak."

He eased himself, his back sinking into the softness of the leather couch and his features relaxed with relief. The young man finally made firm his assertion, he thought, and his naïve niece looked like she didn't know what to think. To test the waters…

"And what did you say when he told you that?" he asked in a fatherly tone.

Reiko picked up her legs onto the couch and hugged them close against her chest. "I don't know, Uncle Tak… Quite frankly, I'm a little frightened."

Dr. Nakamichi's jaws clenched. Bingo…

"Why?"

She rested her delicate chin on her knees. "I can't explain it myself… I feel as if I'm doing something wrong."

"And what's that?"

"I don't know."

Silence.

"What is the matter with me, Uncle Tak? I don't know what to do… I am quite fond of Mitsui-san, but there's this imbalance within myself that leaves an unsettling sentiment…"

"Can you describe this sentiment?"

Her head shook. Sighing, she rested her forehead against her knees. "It's frustrating when I don't understand."

Poor Rei, he thought again as he rubbed his niece's back. The doctor could not remember one occasion where she didn't understand something. Then again, things were far less complicated when she was younger. But she was a decade older now, and she was blooming into a beautiful woman who was unsure of others' intentions and how to react to them. He frowned for a moment and thought back to the past. The kids who came across his niece before were mean as snakes. Yet this wasn't child's play anymore, and she was far from a child even though she reacted like one when she didn't know what to do. Considering the innocence behind her revelation, he had to assume Mitsui's demeanor had been that of a gentleman's.

"I'm afraid I don't have a balm to ease your frustrations, Rei, but just give it some time. Maybe you'll understand what it is you're feeling." He looked at the wall clock in the room. "It's still too early to be up and about. Would you like to get some more sleep?"

"I'm all right, Uncle Tak." Reiko stood and walked carefully around the couch, noticing the black kit on the side table. "I've had enough sleep for today." She threw her uncle a beseeching look. "Do I have to take this, Uncle Tak?"

Dr. Nakamichi knew how she felt after being under the drug's influence. "No, dear, I don't think you have to. You seem to have yourself under control." He yawned and looked at the clock once more. "I'm still running on California time, but worrying about you all that time on the plane's got me beat. I'm going to turn in now, Rei. Where should I sleep?"

"In Mom and Dad's room," she replied.

"All right then. What are you going to do?"

"I'll just stay here for now and spend some time with Onee-san. You can stop worrying now, Uncle Tak. I'm all right."

Dr. Nakamichi smiled. "Okay." Rising to his feet, he walked to the doors and paused. "We'll be having lunch at Yoshi's, I hope you'll be rested by then. I'll check your vitals tomorrow." Opening a door, he lingered a second more. "I'd like to finally meet Mitsui-san face to face."

She beamed at her uncle. "Of course."

"Good."

"Good night, Uncle Tak."

"Good night, Rei."

Leaving his niece to watch more of her sister's taped performances, he found his way to the master bedroom. He placed his wallet and cell phone on the side table, took his shoes off and fell into bed, making a mental list of tomorrow's agenda before allowing himself to sleep. First on the agenda: a little man-to-man talk with Mitsui.

* * *

Nanami couldn't sleep.

After what happened at the arena that day, she found it hard to find rest. Her injured ankle also made it difficult to toss and turn and she couldn't find a comfortable position to sleep in. She thought of staying up until sleep found its way into her eyes, but she knew that if she made even the tiniest bit of noise, her aunt would come rushing in to check up on her. Nanami smiled at that. Her lively aunt was really a worrywart underneath her cheery exterior. More of an older sister than an aunt, she made sure Nanami was comfortable after picking her up from the hospital. Suffering only minor bruises on her neck, she and her aunt were escorted by Akagi back to her house. She closed her eyes in embarrassment as she remembered her graceless stuttering that night when Akagi spoke to her as he carried her up the stairs to her room.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to get you and the others out in time, Nanami-chan," he had said, his voice so low it almost sounded like a groan.

"I - it's okay, Akagi-kun. I don't think we planned to be taken hostage," she said jokingly, feeling nervous when he didn't laugh nor smile at her words.

"You don't understand… I… I was really worried about you."

She was speechless at his statement and grew a darker shade of red in the face. She mentally screamed. 'What do I say?!' Setting her down to sit on her bed, Akagi hesitated to speak.

"I'm really glad you're okay. I hope you feel better soon, Nanami-chan." Pausing once more before exiting her room, he looked over his shoulder to look at her once more. "Good night."

Nanami lost all nerve to her tongue and she watched her tall classmate leave her room, all the time her mind crying out for her mouth to open and say something.

She opened her eyes and slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand, wondering why she tormented herself with remembering how gawky she was with Akagi. "I am never going to get any sleep," she muttered.

* * *

Reiko woke up to the sound of static from the speakers of the sound system, and nothing but a snowy haze showed on the television screen. She fell asleep again, and she sat up rubbing her eyes awake. She reached for the remote control and just before she could turn it off, a clear image of her sister appeared before her on the screen, giggling and smiling before the camera. Reiko was shocked; she had seen Midori's performances on this tape hundreds if not thousands of times, and she had never seen anything like what she was seeing now, a home video made by Midori herself. She marveled at the discovery, and she leaned forward in curiosity as she watched.

"And now, a private performance for the great Mr. Toshiro Jackson."

Reiko's eyes just about popped out of their sockets as she saw the bodyguard come into view, her older sister suppressing a giggle as she ushered him to a chair on a wooden deck, Jackson's hand not letting go of Midori's. The chair looked familiar to her…

"That's at the house in North Shore," she mumbled to herself, delighted at her discovery.

"Any song requests, Mr. Jackson?" her sister's playful voice asked, and the guard shrugged his bulky shoulders.

"Any song would do," he replied, finally letting her hand go.

Midori paused to think of what to sing and stood still after deciding.

"No more talk of darkness… forget these wide-eyed fears… I'm here, nothing can harm you… my words will warm and calm you…"

Reiko recognized the words of her song and smiled as she watched her sister sing to a much younger Jackson. She noticed that he was just as big and muscular, he hasn't changed much. He was happier then, the light in his eyes bright and the smile on his face wide as he watched her sister sing to him. Midori had taken the role of Christine in 'The Phantom of the Opera' for the theater company she joined, and Reiko had remembered seeing her performance on their opening night. Flawless. She was her sister's biggest fan, the intonation and emotion behind her voice captivating her at a very young age. Reiko guessed that she just about turned ten when this video was shot, just a few days before her family…

She drew in a sharp gasp, like she felt a bolt of lightning strike her heart. 'She sang this song for him before they got on that plane…'

Reiko had always seen Jackson around her family when she was still a little tot, and she could now remember a time when he even played little games with her on the way to her instructors' homes for her lessons, just like her brother did. The look on Jackson's face was a mixture of love and release, with a hint of worry hidden behind his bright eyes. It was likely that her sister chose this song to allay the guard's fears of her and her family boarding the cursed plane. Reiko's heart sank at her discernment, her eyes lowering to the floor as she listened to her sister's voice flow through the speakers with the warmth of a mother's embrace. And then, it wasn't her sister singing.

Looking back at the television, Jackson sang the part of Raoul's duet. He wasn't an opera singer, but he held the tune well, and his base voice was surprisingly soothing to the ear.

"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime… let me lead you from your solitude…"

Reiko gaped at the two figures on the television, the delighted smile on her sister's face, and the guard's brow easing at the sight of Midori's grin. They held hands once more, Midori entwining her long fingers into Jackson's thick hands, and their singing voices grew to a hushed timbre as they ended their song with a tender embrace that made Reiko look away with a coy smile. She gazed at the screen once more and listened to their exchange of words.

"Don't be frightened, Toshi. It's okay, we're going to be just fine," Midori mumbled into his broad chest.

"I'm sorry, Midori… I can't help it… something just doesn't feel right about this trip."

"You'll be with us on the plane, nothing can harm us."

"But that's not what my instinct is telling me."

"Will this help your instinct?" Midori stood on her toes and gave the guard an unanticipated kiss, one that made him embrace her sister even tighter. Reiko's hand flew to her gaping mouth and immediately looked down the floor, wondering why she was being self-conscious of the scene before her. When she finally looked up at the screen, they were holding each other again, Midori gently caressing the guard's neck as she spoke to him.

"I love you, Toshi… I want you to always remember that. I just want you to be happy, no matter what. Everything's going to be fine."

The screen suddenly went blank, and the heads of the VCR began to whir. She pushed the stop button and ejected the tape out. Looking at the videotape, it was all the way to the end of the spool. The tape ran out just after her sister's words. She kept looking at the tape and stood in silence, the thoughts in her mind swimming with the weight of her discovery of the love her sister and Jackson shared.

* * *

Coach Miwa woke up early to find his wife gone from bed. Rubbing his eyes, he immediately jumped out of bed, ran downstairs and searched the rooms of the house, sounds from the kitchen finally leading him to his busy wife, hands and forearms covered with flour.

"Dear, what are you doing at this early hour? It's six o'clock on a Sunday morning," he said softly as he approached surprised wife. She gasped.

"No, you're not supposed to be up yet! You'll ruin my surprise!" she said, trying to hide the mass of dough behind her.

The annoyed look on his wife's face dispelled all his worries and made him laugh out loud. "And what is my pretty little bee scheming now?" he said, his arm snaking around his wife's hip. She played hard to get.

"Nothing, nothing…" Coach Miwa pretended to bite her shoulder and neck and she laughed as she tried to push him away. "Okay, okay… I was just trying to make your favorite snack."

His eyes lit up. "Gyoza? From scratch?"

Her wife's gaze softened. "It's a very important day for you, dear. I want you to have the best of everything."

"I've already got the best of everything," he replied, dabbing a finger into the flour and tapping his wife's nose with it. She grinned, then took her husband's arm gently off her hip.

"Your game is at four o'clock, right?" she asked, returning to her kneading.

Miwa sighed. "Yeah… I just hope by then I'll have all my players' heads into the game." He groaned as he took a seat by the dinner table. "Why do they have to fall in love with the volleyball team?"

"Not all of them, dear, just some. And can you really blame them? Those girls are cute as dolls, especially that girl Reiko."

Miwa grew silent. He was afraid that Mitsui's devotion to the injured volleyball player would keep him from showing up for the game. Because of what happened at the Kanagawa Arena, the venue for the basketball finals was changed, and with a coin toss between the coaches it was decided that the game be played at the defending champions' home turf. He told his players to try to shake off yesterday's events before meeting at their home gym. He wanted to win this championship just as badly as his players did, and in his gut was a seething anticipation to lead his men into the playing court and show what they've got. But if his shooting guard isn't there…

"Here, sweetheart. Let me help you with that dough."

He began to knead and knead, pouring his fears and frustrations into each mash of the dough. His wife watched him as she readied the table with the meat mix and two spoons. Silently, she prayed that God would give her husband the title he'd been dreaming of his entire coaching career.

* * *

Reiko went upstairs to dress herself in warm clothes, shrugging out of the pajamas she wore earlier before going to the music room. As she dressed herself in the closet, her eyes strayed to the calendar on the wall. The twenty-third of December. Her brows slightly raised at the date. Have the days really gone by this fast? She donned a pair of black felt pants and a light blue sweater, putting on a pair of socks before going to the dresser to put on her necklace and pendant. It was still early, and she didn't want to wake her uncle or Mitsui up. She crept down the stairs to the den and tapped on the keys of the laptop on the desk. Browsing the internet for a few minutes, she smiled as she clicked at several images on the screen. Just as she was about to shut the computer down, she saw a file on the desktop that stirred her curiosity. Clicking on it, she stared with wide eyes at the picture and words on the screen.

'Kawamura Shinichi, age 35, single, mathematics professor at the University of Kanagawa, head of research and development at Lexicon Laboratories.'

And, just below the profile, red bold lettered words lined the bottom of the screen.

'Grandson of Kamata Kintaro, department chair of mathematics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.'

She leaned back in the swivel chair, the connection between her math professor's actions and the equation she solved long ago finally made clear. This was no longer about the professor's ego.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her mind making a million different connections at one instant. She had to know more.

Reiko shut the computer down and went to the foyer to call Jackson on his cell phone.

"Jackson here," a very deep and sleepy voice answered.

"Hello, Mr. Jackson. This is Reiko."

"Nakamichi-dono?" he said as he looked at his watch. Seven o'clock. "Are you all right? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, all is well. I apologize for waking you, but I found something of great importance to you. Could you please come to the music room?"

Confused, he looked at his watch again. "Okay. Please give me five minutes."

"I'll see you then."

In the time it took Jackson to rouse himself and get dressed, Reiko had already made a couple of phone calls to several different people, one to her coach informing him of her physical status, and one to Mitsui's relieved parents. She walked to the music room and waited for the bodyguard, and upon seeing him she stood to greet him.

"Good morning, Mr. Jackson. Please have a seat." Her fingers began to fidget as she thought of what his reactions would be to the video, and she hid them behind her back as the guard sat on the couch. "I… I want to apologize for my stubbornness… if I hadn't pushed to play volleyball, none of you would have gotten hurt…. And, I would like to thank you and the others for taking care of me last night."

Jackson gave her a small grin. "Mitsui-san did most of the work for us, Nakamichi-dono. He's the one you should thank."

She looked down the floor and smiled. "Perhaps later." She handed him the remote control.

"The tape's already in the VCR. I… I accidentally stumbled upon this… I think it's important for you to see."

Unsure of what she wanted him to see, the brawny guard took the remote and pushed play. She watched his eyes widen in shock as his gaping gaze fixed onto the smiling woman on the screen.

"And now, a private performance for the great Mr. Toshiro Jackson."

The guard's eyes began to water as he watched Midori sing, the song flooding his mind with sweet and bitter memories: the late nights they spent talking to each other, the walks in Central Park, her long slender fingers that often lost themselves his hair, her sea-green eyes that melted every care he had, the last embrace she gave him just before she was taken away from him forever…

He couldn't hold them back and soon his cheeks were streaked with tears, Reiko silently weeping in the corner of the music room for her sister and the heartbroken guard. Why did he choose to continue guarding his family, she thought as she wiped the corners of her eyes. Was his loss not enough to ward him off her cursed family name?

Jackson rested his head in his hands, momentarily closing his eyes as he saw himself and Midori in their final embrace. It became so vivid in his mind, he could see her face even as his eyes were shut. Her mellow voice cooed through the speakers of the music room as if she was right before him, the tears from his eyes flowing in a steady stream as he sobbed at her words of love and comfort.

"I love you, Toshi… I want you to always remember that. I just want you to be happy, no matter what. Everything's going to be fine."

He openly cried as the screen grew blank, and Reiko approached the guard in an embrace, hoping to offer some consolation to the guard. In his grief he held onto her, shedding tears onto her shoulder, his chest heaving up and down as he fought to find the air and closure to his loss. She held him back in silence, her throat choking with pity for the brawny guard's loss and for hers as well. A few minutes passed and Jackson quieted down, his lungs drawing an occasional deep breath as he let his tears dry.

"I didn't know, Mr. Jackson… I didn't know you loved my sister. Why do you continue to guard what remains of my family? Why do you continue to guard me? Does it not break your heart?"

Allowing himself to remain in her embrace, he wiped his tears away. "My heart broke a long time ago, Nakamichi-dono… I thought I would go mad… I loved Midori so much… just as she and everybody else in your family loved you… they were so proud of you, she was so excited to see you at your recital. You made her and your family so happy, so proud…"

Recollecting himself, he took a deep breath and exhaled, sitting up straight to look straight into Reiko's teary gray eyes.

"You were a great source of Midori's happiness. She said you were a miracle child, and she told all her friends about you. She looked forward to seeing you each time she could, and she wanted to show and tell you all she'd learned and done... After dealing with my loss, I chose to remain on your family's service because I had to protect the last living source of happiness for Midori… because even if I can't see her now, it would make her happy if I watched over you."

Jackson took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears off Reiko's cheeks. She knitted her brows as she looked down and smiled, her punctuated sniffles making the guard smile through his sadness.

"You remind me so much of your sister… Sometimes I have to look twice to make sure it's you I see and not her. Your eyes are my only clue to reality."

Her eyes softened and her face brightened with a bigger smile.

"I needed this… I needed to see and hear her one last time. Thank you so much, Nakamichi-dono."

She gave him another hug, one that made him hug her back like his older brother Hideki did to her. "You have always been nice to me, just like my brother had been. I was so afraid to ask you before what you have told me now… I am relieved to know the truth." Reiko let go and sighed, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "I have a request for you."

The guard gave her an inquiring gaze.

"I read the report on the math professor… what will happen to him?"

Jackson grunted and paused to think for a moment. "Well… he's in the hospital right now with a lot of internal bleeding from the beating he got and two gun wounds, and his room is guarded by several policemen. When he gets better, they'll be shipping him to the penitentiary where he'll serve his sentence and mostly likely become a very bad man's girlfriend."

Reiko's eyes widened. "Did you beat him?"

He shook his head. "You have your teammates and Akagi-san to thank for that. I only shot at him."

Reiko stilled at his statement.

"Please don't worry about him anymore, Nakamichi-dono. We have enough to put him away for good."

She hesitated.

"I... I'd like for you to deliver a message to him for me."

Jackson's brow furrowed. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Looking down at the dimmed sheen reflecting off the wooden floor, Reiko closed her eyes before replying.

"There is more to his issue with me than meets the eye, Mr. Jackson. To him, it's personal."

His attention stoked by the cryptic tone of her voice, Jackson nodded at her. After listening to her, he nodded yet again and rose from his seat. "Is there anything else I can do for you today, Nakamichi-dono?"

Looking at the wall clock, she shot the guard a sheepish smile. "Actually, there is one more thing, if you don't mind..."

* * *

Turning over to his side, Mitsui let his arm drape sleepily over to the other half of the bed, only to feel a cold, unoccupied space. As his hand continued to pat the surroundings for a warm body, he roused and propped himself up on one elbow to stare at an empty half of the bed. Before he rose in panic, he spied a piece of paper folded into the shape of an elephant. On its trunk was a small sheet simply folded over and tucked securely. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and took the artful paperwork, separating the note from the paper elephant and began to read.

'_Mitsui-san -_

_Good morning._

_I left to run some errands. Please do not worry, Mr. Jackson is with me. I have informed your parents of your whereabouts and they have asked that you call them back as soon as possible. I will be back soon._

_Reiko'_

Mitsui grinned. / _She doesn't let herself stay down any longer than she needs to…_ / Setting the elephant and note aside, he got up and walked to the bathroom, leaning his hands against the sides of the sink before taking a good look at himself, noticing the drowsy lines under his eyes. He groaned. / _What a night…_ / He spotted a stack of clothes folded neatly by the clothes hamper, a white paper crane regally crowning the stack. He nearly laughed, wondering at what hour Reiko got up to have the time to fold paper animals. Shedding his clothes, Mitsui stepped into the shower and sighed as the hot water pelted his skin. His thoughts began to drift to last night's turn of events. As he covered his body with soapy suds, he remembered the reaction Reiko had to the sugary contact between them that set his soul on fire. / _It's like I died and went to heaven…_ / But it seemed that something held her back when she nudged him away, and he knew something was amiss when she gave him that azure look of helplessness that made him want to hold her. What could it be? He had no idea. Was it him, the rather presumptuous approach to kissing her, or was it her weakened state that caused her vulnerability to show? Watching the suds go down the drain, Mitsui didn't know where to start looking for an answer. All he knew was that she didn't refuse him, and it was enough to set his hopes of her defining decision between them.

He took the folded clothes by the tub and wore them, guessing that they were her brother's. It still bothered him that he was wearing the garments of a deceased person, but if Reiko herself picked them out for him to wear, he was going to put them on regardless of his notions. Her brother's garments were such a surprisingly good fit on him, and as he buttoned up the navy shirt, he remembered the night he wore the black Armani suit to dinner with her, and her answer when he asked her where her brother was. He felt a pang of remorse. Stepping out of the bathroom, he looked at the pictures on the wall closely, observing the features that Reiko's brother and she shared. As he studied the picture hanging on the wall above the dresser, he read the words written in gold cursive letters below the picture. 'Hideki Nakamichi - Most Valuable Player of the Year'. The young man in the picture wore a soft smile of confidence and held a tennis racket in one hand. Mitsui looked around the room in scrutiny, seeing a football, tennis racket, volleyball and baseball glove at one corner of the bedroom. In all the pictures hanging on the walls, Hideki was in a different uniform holding a different ball in hand. _/ I guess athleticism runs in the family. _/

Mitsui heard the front door close downstairs and he immediately stepped out of the bedroom. Looking down from the balcony, his eyes searched the foyer for Reiko. Finding no one there, he descended the stairs to the kitchen and found her and Jackson setting down several shopping bags.

"Hi guys. What's all this?" he asked as he approached them.

Reiko's face lit. "Good morning, Mitsui-san. Did you sleep well?"

"I got enough, thanks. Oh, and thanks for the note and the paper animals. They saved me from another bout of worry."

Jackson smiled at his remark, and he extended his hand out to Mitsui.

"Thank you for watching over Nakamichi-dono, Mitsui-san. We're really grateful for your help."

Mitsui tried to shrug his awkwardness off as he met the guard's firm grip. "Don't mention it."

Turning to Reiko, the towering guard took his leave. "I'll have everything ready for you, Nakamichi-dono. Oh, and as soon as your uncle wakes up, please come to the servants' quarters. We have something to show you," Jackson said with a wink.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Jackson," she said, giving him a bright, knowing smile that struck Mitsui's curiosity. They looked upon Jackson's retreating form until it completely disappeared behind the back door. Reiko rummaged through one of the shopping bags and took out a smaller paper bag.

"We stopped at the bakery by the university. Are you hungry?"

Mitsui nodded, and Reiko grinned as she took two plates from the kitchen cabinet, placed two kolaches on each plate and gave one to him. Taking the plate, he was pleased to see her back to her normal self.

"So… I'm guessing you went shopping?" he asked before taking a bite of his kolache.

"Among other things," she answered with a grin, handing him a napkin from the paper bag.

He chuckled. "Is that mischief I see in your eyes?"

Her grin grew bigger. "Why, no, Mitsui-san," she voiced in a playful tone, her orbs of blue rolling up to avert her impish gaze.

Looking back at the bags, he paused to think. "That's right, it's only two more days before Christmas."

She smiled and nodded at him. "I felt a lot better earlier, and I felt like I needed to move…" she trailed off, suddenly remembering her weakened state of mind and body earlier that morning, and she looked away to hide her flushed embarrassment at the memory of his lips against hers that made her mind swim. Noticing his expectant stare, she tried to hide her discomfiture.

"Mitsui-san… I… I usually don't remember anything after I am taken out of the immersion chamber… and… I don't remember much of what happens afterwards… but… this morning…"

"Sshh," he whispered with a finger to her lips, closing the gap with only a few inches between them, and his eyes bore into hers as she held her breath. "You don't have to say anything that makes you uncomfortable, Reiko-san."

Silence engulfed them as he smiled at her, retracting his finger from her luscious lips that tested the limits of his restraint. Moments passed by like hours, their eyes reading each other's words before they were spoken. Reiko fell prey to his intense gaze, and a wave of nervousness washed over her, her heart threatening to leap off her chest. His eyes were sincere yet serious just as they had been earlier that morning, and she found herself speechless yet again under his gaze. She timidly watched as he placed his retracted finger against her cheek, grazing her jaw line and before sweeping up to tuck a few straying strands of her hair.

"Do you remember…" he trailed off, bewitched by the smooth and perfect lines of her face, his thumb finding its way against the quivering softness of her lower lip once more. "… This?"

She nodded hypnotically, the blush of her cheeks betraying the bashful sentiment behind her cerulean gaze.

"Do you regret it?" he asked, the fluid timbre of his voice an octave lower, her eyes following his hand as it lowered to his side. After a pause, she looked up at him with some trepidation and slowly shook her head. Mitsui read the apprehension in her eyes.

"Does it make you uncomfortable? I'll stop..."

Reiko remained silent as she mentally answered his question. It wasn't so much about being uncomfortable as being frightened. She feared that which was unknown to her, how his very touch made her body react in ways only drugs in the past had been able to do: the instant flush of her skin, the raging, heated surge of blood through her vessels, the sympathetic response to flee despite the warmth and tenderness of his touch. She chided herself for being such a simpleton. This wasn't nuclear science, so why couldn't she understand what she felt? The reactions she felt defied logic. Why did she have the urge to run and hide and at the same time have the inclination to stay and let her fingers trace the chiseled lines of his face?

Mitsui couldn't help but stare at her cheeks of crimson, her questioning eyes of blue and those yielding ruby lips of hers that his own hungry mouth begged to taste. / Over and over again… but not now… / Both of them were startled by the sound of footsteps going down the stairs, widening the distance between them before turning around to see Dr. Nakamichi buttoning up the wrist collars of his white shirt. Straightening up, Reiko approached her uncle with an embrace.

"Good morning again, Uncle Tak."

Dr. Nakamichi's features were like the strong and fine lines of a Roman statue, with sharp eyes that quickly scanned Reiko's overall physical state, his gaze methodically sweeping over Reiko's movements and reactions. He was a handsome man in his early forties, and he and his niece shared the same shape of face that made Mitsui smile inwardly. / I guess being good-looking is in the family, too. /

He laughed. "Good morning, Rei." Letting go of his niece, he turned his attention to Mitsui and extended his hand out. "Tak Nakamichi. You must be the Mitsui-san I've been hearing of all these months."

Mitsui shook the offered hand firmly, meeting the doctor's welcoming gaze. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir."

"We have kolaches for breakfast, Uncle Tak. Would you like some?" she asked, turning to the cabinet to get a plate.

"That sounds great."

After placing a kolache on the plate and handing it to her uncle, she suddenly looked up at the two men. "Oh, I have an appointment to see Mr. Jackson and the others."

"For what?" asked her uncle before biting into the bread.

She shrugged. "All he told me in the car that is was a surprise. I'll be right back, Uncle Tak." Looking at Mitsui, Reiko beamed at him before looking back at her uncle. "Play nice," she said in a singing tone as she winked at her grinning uncle. She walked out of the kitchen without looking back, and with the thud of the back door, Dr. Nakamichi turned to Mitsui.

"Before I say anything else, Mitsui-san, I want to thank you for saving my niece's life."

"I'm afraid I wasn't that much of a help as Sakai-san was."

The doctor shook his head. "Believe me, you've helped out in more ways than you know." He moved to the kitchen counter where the coffee maker was, took the pot and filled it with tap water. "Would you like some coffee? I'm afraid I'm still sluggish after the flight."

"I could use a cup myself, sir. Thank you."

After a few minutes, Mitsui found himself holding a mug of coffee following Reiko's uncle up the stairs, walking through a room that was furnished with a leather couch and an office desk. Unlocking a pair of doors at the far side of the room, Dr. Nakamichi opened them and a gust of cold air rushed into the room, making Mitsui shiver. Just outside the doors was a large balcony lined with a banister made entirely out of rose-colored marble. Setting his mug down, Dr. Nakamichi motioned for Mitsui to step outside. Upon doing so, Mitsui was awed at the view before him: he could see the sunlit rooftops of the houses in the west side of the subdivision and the enormity of the backyard, with the servants' quarters occupying the far corner. The sky was sparse with clouds, and the winter sun was blinding to Mitsui's eyes. Squinting, he set his coffee mug next to the doctor's, dug his hands in his pockets and looked down to see all four bodyguards bowing to a smiling Reiko. He heard the doctor heave a sigh.

"God, time really flies, Mitsui-san," he said as he looked down at his niece. "She'll be twenty-one on Christmas day."

Mitsui nodded. "I know, she told me that at a party."

Leaning his elbows forward on the marble balustrade, Dr. Nakamichi looked out at the horizon. A long silence ensued. Taking a sip of coffee, the doctor broke the silence.

"You probably know why I brought you up here. Anxious, Mitsui-san?"

Mitsui let out a nervous laugh. "Well, not yet."

His laughter was echoed by a heartier one. "Don't be, Mitsui-san. I just wanted to tell you a few things and ask you a few questions." Turning around and leaning his back against the balustrade, he cocked his head back to look at the blue sky. "I already know you love my niece, so we'll skip that part. If you hadn't noticed by now, Reiko isn't exactly experienced when it comes to guys and dating."

/ _Oh boy, here it comes… _/ Mitsui took in deep breath, his ears apprehensive of the words to come.

"You know, you're the first guy to have lasted this long in my niece's company in a very long time. Jackson doesn't let dolts or jackasses near her, so when he told me about you, I was kind of impressed since Jackson's intuition is near godlike. I'm glad to be proved right." Taking another sip, the doctor looked over his shoulder down at Reiko conversing with the guards before continuing. "All that time, I wondered what it was about you that made you stand out. Do you know, Mitsui-san?"

Mitsui didn't know how to answer his question. He shrugged. "No sir, I'm afraid I don't."

The doctor laughed.

"Weren't you intimidated by Jackson and the other guards?"

"Well, they were a little icy at first, but I guess it just takes some time for people to warm up to me."

Dr. Nakamichi smiled. "I heard you were in a gang before and stopped playing basketball… what was that like, Mitsui-san?"

The shooting guard looked down at the marble floor. / _Just tell him the truth…_ / "Well sir, when I got injured in the beginning of my freshman year in high school, I was disappointed and crushed… and I gave up hope of ever gaining back the time I lost playing basketball. I don't know, I guess I became disillusioned and frustrated… the gang got me in a lot of trouble, but somehow I lived through it. I blamed a lot of other people before coming to realize that I was the one at fault… I made a lot of wrong decisions before finally coming to my senses. "

The doctor nodded and took his coffee mug in hand. "That is something really amazing about man, this ability to adapt and live over time… did you think you were going crazy then, Mitsui-san?"

"I didn't think I was going crazy then, sir. I was already crazy to begin with."

His answer made him smirk. "Well, I respect your honesty. It must've taken a lot of guts to spill all that… perhaps I can do some spilling myself."

Taking a moment to swirl the contents of his mug, Dr. Nakamichi's voice lowered to a graver tone. "My brother and the rest of his family got on a plane headed to New York to watch Reiko play at her piano recital." He paused to look at the horizon. "They never got there… the plane crashed and sank to the bottom of the ocean, taking my brother and his family with it."

Mitsui bowed his head. / _I know… I'm sorry…_ /

"It was pretty hard for me then to accept my older brother's death and the wonderful family who died with him, but my loss was nothing compared to Reiko's… when she found out, the light in her eyes was snuffed out just as the lives of her family were in that crash, and it shattered her spirit. You know, it was like she stopped functioning… she had no desire to learn from her tutors, she stopped singing, she refused to play the piano, and she lost so much weight because she wouldn't eat… it brought me to tears whenever I'd come home from surgery to find her asleep on the floor with photos of her family all around her, and at one point I thought she had become permanently mute after undergoing therapy in the immersion chamber. She was frighteningly silent, and I nearly went out of my mind trying every possible means to get her to talk again. I took a year off from work to spend time with her, taking her to speech therapists and psychiatrists… and miraculously she found her voice. When she told me she was ready to see her tutors again, I was relieved beyond belief, but I knew deep in my heart that she would never be the same again. Being a prodigy didn't allow much room for a normal childhood, and with all the nasty encounters she had with other kids, her family was all she had to feel normal."

Pausing to sip from his mug, he turned around to watch a blindfolded Reiko ushered by Sakai to one end of the spacious backyard, with the rest of the guards at the other end standing by a large box wrapped in shiny gold paper and a golden bow.

Dr. Nakamichi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know how, but she was able to come back to the world of the living, and every time I think about it, it amazes me how she could still live through her grief. Her mind was stronger than I thought, and I knew that if I was in her shoes, I would've allowed myself to go insane. I didn't expect her to go back to normal completely, and occasionally I'd catch a glimpse of the blue in her eyes, yet that would be but a fleeting moment. For someone who wasn't expected to live past the first year of life, she had beaten all the odds, exceeded all our expectations… and sadly, her family's life expectancies."

He stopped talking for a moment and both men watched Sakai give the three guards a thumb up, signaling the guards to lift the bow-topped box lid up, and Miller gently took out the box's content and placed it on the ground. Removing the blindfold from Reiko's eyes, she opened them to see a little Welsh corgi puppy running towards her, its mouth opened as if to smile at its new, ecstatic master. Overjoyed, she bent down to scoop up the furry animal in her arms, letting the puppy plant a wet kiss on her nose before gleefully whirling it around. She let out an excited laugh, putting the puppy down and letting it chase her all around the yard, Sakai and Jackson looking on with smiles on their faces, and the younger guards taking snapshots of Reiko and small four-legged pursuer. The doctor smiled sadly and continued.

"I worked so hard to find a way to buy her frail little body the time it needed to survive outside the womb… I never expected my efforts to buy her so much of it, only to be fated to spend it in solitude… I guess in a way it's partly my fault. I let myself get so busy with work at the hospital that I don't get to spend enough time as I'd like to with her. And that's just exactly what she has. Time. She keeps telling me she doesn't mind being alone, that I should do something grander like save people's lives, and that I shouldn't worry... I'm the only remaining blood relative she has on this earth… and as big as this world is, her heart is even bigger. How can I not worry about her when people let their seething jealousy drive them to efface her and the intelligence she possesses... and after what happened yesterday, she still tells me not to worry. She has nothing but time, Mitsui-san. Aside from money, she has an abundance of it… I'm beginning to think my bloodline is cursed, because it seems that even with all this money and time in the world, we are left to live without the warmth and comfort of family, both of which we cannot buy. Time is the only thing that remains for her and me. Once a precious gift, I am beginning to regret and imagine that the time I've bought her had only become an unimaginable burden for her. Once she had it, it took matters into its own hands, and my poor niece is left to live like it loved her in its lengthy arms void of vivacity."

Reiko looked up the balcony to find his uncle and her Mitsui gazing down at her. She waved at the two, taking her new pet and proudly holding it up for them to see, the bright innocent beam on her face making them smile back, her uncle raising his mug to congratulate her on her present.

"Time for your check-up, Rei!" he shouted, and he turned from his perch on the marble banister. Casting a glance at Mitsui, he let out a wry chuckle. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, Mitsui-san."

Mitsui shook his head. "Don't be, sir."

Dr. Nakamichi squinted at the glare off the marble floor with a faint smile. After a moment of thought, he spoke. "I told you all this because I want you to know where she's coming from, and what you're getting yourself into. I just want my niece to be safe and happy."

"I understand, sir."

Crossing the threshold, he looked over at Mitsui to the quiet shooting guard. "I'm glad you do, Mitsui-san… We may need to rely on that understanding." He motioned him along with his empty mug. "Come on downstairs. I'm sure Rei would love to show her new present to you."

He followed Dr. Nakamichi down the stairs, through the kitchen and out the back door where the guards took turns playing with the furry animal. The smile on Reiko's face was a precious sight to see; her face was bright as the winter sun, giggling. For her, this was a gift of happiness like none other she had ever received, and Jackson was quite pleased with the younger guards for the idea. As Mitsui looked on, he inwardly sighed as he stepped onto the green lawn trailing behind Dr. Nakamichi.

_/ Well, I guess a dog is off my list of gift ideas… _/

He remembered the languid, lethargic condition she had been in just hours ago, and this new day brought a different, renewed sparkle in her brilliant blue eyes that made him forget the despair and wretchedness of the previous night in the house. She looked his way and it made him blink, a small grin forming on his lips at the girl whose smile made his entire being waver in sweet acquiescence and crumbled his strongest defenses. The puppy was finally handed back to her, and after petting it a couple of times she ran around the yard once more, giggles of delight bubbling from her throat as she let the puppy chase her. She was the picture of innocence in the dark shade of silent persistence, one he had imagined her to be before learning of her internal plight. And as she called out to her uncle and ran into his arms in excitement, her laughter rang out loud and oddly painted an altered impression of her beauty in his mind. Like the two sides of a coin, she was a composed and restrained person on one surface, and a storm of emotions and heartbreak on the other. And no matter what she had mustered, Mitsui found the good doctor's words to be true: they gambled for time and won, and yet she will spend every minute of it in quiet solitude. And in the end, she will carry on living, with her uncle holding up the frail and safe ceiling of her sheltered life and the constant inevitable passage of time, its hands always moving, always running, always with her… His grin disappeared as he eyed Reiko as she seemed to flit across the yard in a suddenly harsh light. She was unsullied. A tragedy. A beautiful martyr.

She was the girl that time loved.

* * *

The phone rang in the Mitsui residence and Mrs. Mitsui nearly jumped out of her skin as she reached for the receiver.

"Hello, Mitsui residence."

"Mom, it's me."

"Mitsui Hisashi, why didn't you call us?! If it weren't for Reiko-chan telling us where you were, your picture would've been on every primetime newscast this side of Asia!"

The shooting guard cringed at the high-pitched voice of his mother. "I know, I'm sorry… a lot of things happened, and I had to help out… I'm sorry, Mom."

"What happened? Are you okay? You're not hurt?"

"No, but if you keep screaming into phone like that, my ear will," he jokingly replied. "But really, I'm okay. Reiko-san had to be rushed to the hospital, but don't worry, she's okay now."

His mother heaved a sigh. "She sounded fine on the phone… well, I suppose you're right. But thanks to you, I've gotten twenty-two new white hairs on my head… here, talk to your father."

_/ Oh shit…_ /

"Hisashi, you dodo bird! Is it your hobby to make your parents worry over your butt?!"

"Pops, I'm sorry -"

"Sorry?! You're lucky Reiko-chan saved your butt from a severe beating from me!"

He slapped a palm to his forehead and groaned. "Dad, I'm not a kid anymore."

"Yeah? Well, a grown-up can at least think to call his parents to prevent them from aging ten years overnight!"

"I said I was sorry, Dad."

Mitsui heard a loud grunt from the other end of the line. "I know, you little squid… Just… don't do that again, okay? We were worried about you, son. All we needed was a simple and short phone call to let us know you're okay."

"I know, I'm sorry. But really, I'm fine."

"Well, that's good, because we've just about received a few hundred phone calls from your teammates and coach. They're worried you're not coming to the game."

"What?"

"You heard me. You are showing up to the game, right?"

/ _Game? OH SHIT!_ / Mitsui banged his head against the wall, the sound of the thud making his father laugh.

"Don't tell me you forgot."

"I didn't forget." / _Shit… _/ "I'll be home soon."

"See you later, son."

The color fading from Mitsui's face matched his grimace as he hung up. With all the agitation and restlessness last night, he had forgotten and he couldn't believe himself. Since when did he forget a game? He looked out the tall windows of the living room. _/ Well, pigs aren't flying… I guess I'm only human._ /

"I hope you join us for lunch at Yoshi's, Mitsui-san," said Dr. Nakamichi, his confident and winning smile leaving no room for refusal. And with Reiko beaming at him by her uncle's side, it was nearly impossible to say no.

He put on a straighter face and stood erect. "Thanks for the invitation, sir, but I have to let my coach and teammates I'm still alive. I still have a finals game to play today," he said sheepishly, his hand moving to the back of his neck.

"What? You mean you have a big day ahead of you and still you insisted on lending us a hand? You're scoring major brownie points with me, Mitsui-san." Dr. Nakamichi let out a hearty laugh and slapped the reddening shooting guard playfully on his shoulder. "Let us give you a lift home at least. Maybe then you'll change your mind."

* * *

They all somehow ended up at the restaurant, along with the rest of the Mitsui family. Charismatically persuasive, Dr. Nakamichi was quite pleased to have the Mitsuis join them for lunch. Mr. and Mrs. Mitsui were charmed by the doctor's easy-going and genuine air that made even Ami smile in her seat. It wasn't until dessert and coffee were served did Mr. Mitsui realize that the Nakamichis their son had befriended were of the same family as the great petroleum mogul who perished in a plane crash years ago, Tetsuo Nakamichi. As he sliced a piece of tiramisu with his fork, he couldn't help but feel a flood of melancholy within him as he listened to Dr. Nakamichi talk about Japan's economy. Casting a glance at his son sitting next to Reiko, he felt the weight of his son's gaze at her, the same lovestruck eyes he had when he was still wooing Mrs. Mitsui during their college days. He let out a quiet sigh.

"They look good together, don't they?" whispered Dr. Nakamichi.

Turning his head at the doctor in surprise, Mr. Mitsui grinned and whispered back. "I'm afraid my boy's looks are out of your niece's league."

"Well, I wouldn't know about that... and besides, it doesn't matter what we think because she's the one making the decisions."

Both men laughed, turning the heads of all the table's occupants in wide-eyed curiosity.

* * *

Even after their frightening ordeal the day before, Nanami managed to round up most of her teammates to see the basketball finals. Still a little worried, Nanami had called Reiko's house earlier to hear of her current condition, and even with the reassuring sound of Reiko's warm voice, Nanami still wanted to see her teammate to believe her words. Sweeping her eyes through the sold-out crowd, she sat back in her seat, adjusting the portion of the bandage on her ankle that was slightly chaffing her skin. The chatter of her teammates was rather soothing to her ears, and she mindlessly listened as her attention drifted to the basketball court down below. On one half of the court was the Sendai Tigers, their towering figures looming over their rather short coach. A few of her teammates pointed and giggled at their spearmint green and off-white colored uniforms, and somehow their conversation delved into which chewing gum tasted better. Nanami smiled as she continued to size up their school's opposition. The Sendai team always finished in the final four, and they won the finals last year. It would take a lot for Coach Miwa and his team to win, but then again, Akagi and the others wouldn't have gotten this far if they didn't have the skill it took to win. Her eyes drifted to the Coach Miwa sitting on a chair with his clipboard out for all his men to see, Ayako standing next to him prepping the stat book. Absorbed in the plays shown on their coach's clipboard was Akagi, his sharp facial features fixed in concentration. On either side of Akagi stood Miyagi with a shrewd grin plastered on his face and Mitsui on bended knee, nodding a few times at Coach Miwa. After a minute or so, the Tigers took possession of the ball after the tip-off, and Nanami and her teammates watched with eager eyes on the players in blue and yellow jerseys.

"Nanami-chan, is Reiko-chan coming to the game?" asked Rika, her finger tucking a thick lock of hair behind her ear.

The team captain shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Rika-chan. She told me she had to get some tests done on her. But don't worry, she'll be fine."

"I really hope so... though I'm sure Mitsui-kun would've loved for her to be here with us."

"Roger that," answered Sayuri, blowing a bubbled with her gum and popping it. "Then again, I'm sure her bodyguards didn't think it safe for her to come back to another crowded place like this."

Miki let out a sigh. "But I wish she'd show up and bring her men with her. I'm in serious need of eye candy right about now."

Boisterous laughter rang out in their seating section and everybody around them turned their heads at the ladies wearing their school colors of royal blue and yellow.

* * *

"Rei, you're holding up extremely well after having been in the immersion chamber. Have I mentioned how glad I am about that?"

"Only about the eighth time since we got home from the restaurant."

A chuckle.

"Well, can you really blame me?"

A shake of her head.

"Listen, Rei... I've been thinking lately... of finding another way to draw the toxins out of your body..."

A furrow on her brow.

"I would need daily blood samples from you for analysis…"

Thoughtful silence.

"I know that the immersion chamber produces good results, but I don't like the side effects you have to go through to reap the benefits. I'd like to find another way for you. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless you don't mind the way things are now."

* * *

Miyagi passed the ball to the waiting hands of Akagi who faked a jump shot and passed the ball to Mitsui. Jabbing left, he fooled his opponent with a quick turn to the right and a jump shot for a three. Nothing but net. The crowd went wild and so did Nanami and the rest of the volleyball team, and on the court Mitsui's teammates gave him a round of fives as they ran to the opponent's goal. With only two minutes before the end of the first quarter, both teams have been neck and neck on the scoreboard: 31-33, the Tigers leading by one basket.

* * *

"It's… It's been manageable, Uncle Tak."

A nod.

"Were you afraid of Mitsui-san's reaction?"

A whisper.

"Yes."

* * *

The first basket of the second quarter was a slam dunk from Akagi, and the crowd went wild with cheers as he dangled for a second from the basketball hoop. Nanami grinned as her eyes followed the tall center across the court in applause, Sayuri and Miki cheering loudly beside her. As the ball was inbounded, Kazuma and Keiichi guarded their opponents head-on, and in the blink of an eye Keiichi managed to steal the ball and ran down the court for an easy lay-up. The Sendai coach stood from his seat and yelled at his players to hustle up.

* * *

"You really like him, don't you?"

Blush.

"I'm very fond of him."

"Are you sure that's all?"

A hush.

"Perhaps it's more than just a fondness."

Reiko looked up at her uncle with wary eyes.

Hesitation.

"Is it possible to fear love?"

Wide eyes.

* * *

Middle of the second quarter, and Miyagi is at the free-throw line after being elbowed by a guy on the other team. Dribbling the ball three times, he bent his knees as if cocking for the shot. Straightening out, he took his shot and the ball rolled off his fingertips smoothly into the basket, the net swishing with the sound of another scored point. Readying himself for the next free-throw shot, the point guard scratched his nose for a moment, a habit insignificant to their opponents on the court but full of meaning to Akagi. As soon as the ball left Miyagi's hand, bodies pushed each other for the rebound and Akagi reached up to rip the ball from the air, dunking it for an easy two. Coach Miwa's men were pulling away from the Tigers with a seven-point lead.

Nanami and her friends shouted in glee, making the tall center turn his attention to the stands momentarily, coaxing a grin across his sweaty face as his eyes fixed on an applauding Nanami.

* * *

Shrug.

"I - I suppose you could… Computer on."

--Hello, Dr. Nakamichi.-

"Show vitals now."

Numbers flashed across the screen and Reiko's blue-grey eyes scanned the flat screen panel, the black band around her arm inflated.

--Blood pressure: 92/64. Pulse rate 78 bpm. Respiratory rate 14 breaths/min. non-labored. Temperature 97.40F.-

"Well, this certainly is a good thing."

Sigh.

"Dr. Takani's still one of the best in anaphylactic cases."

A smile.

"I bet you want to see Mitsui-san play."

Chuckle.

"I can see him play on the television, Uncle Tak."

Nose pinch.

"No, silly. I meant seeing him play in person."

Gasp.

"It's rather selfish of me to ask Mr. Jackson and the others… Mr. Miller is already hurt."

"They're good men, Rei. They'll protect you no matter where or when. Mr. Miller can remain here. I'll tell the others to go with you in plain clothes. If you leave now, you can catch the last quarter."

"But-"

"If you go, maybe you can find the answers to your own questions."

The clock.

"Time's ticking. So what'll it be?"

Reiko took the band off and gave her uncle a hug. "Thank you for always being there for me, Uncle Tak. I love you."

"I love you, too, booger. Now go."

* * *

It was the end of the third quarter and both teams retreated to their benches with their coaches' ready instruction. The Tigers had gotten a foothold on Coach Miwa's team, and they've been double-teaming Miyagi during the entire third quarter. His breath ragged, the point guard guzzled down the water handed to him by Ayako, and the rest of the team tried to get past their fatigue and focus on Coach Miwa's words. The Tigers were leading 82 to 75.

"You're tired, you're achy, and all those guys want to do is send you home with a beating. It's the last quarter now. Time to be smart, men. Most of you have less than two fouls, and if you have to use them to prevent their center from getting the rebound, then do it. He's been zero and 8 on his free throw goals. Miyagi-kun, slow things down. Kazuma-kun, Keiichi-kun, try to penetrate the key and let Miyagi-kun find you. If you're not sure with a shot, give the ball to someone who is. There's the whistle. Go get 'em , men."

"Fight!"

They left the bench and took their positions, the shooting guard reading Miyagi's every silent signal. After inbounding the ball, the point guard held two fingers up, and he took easy strides through the half court. Like lightning, Miyagi jabbed right and sprinted left away from his opponent, finding Keiichi open and passing the ball to him. He flung it to Akagi, and finding himself double-teamed, he slung the ball to Mitsui waiting behind the three-point line. The shooting guard stepped back, took his aim, jumped and shot the ball.

Swish.

Coach Miwa and the rest of his team on the bench got on their feet cheering, and so did the crowd. He held three fingers up and motioned them to hustle down the court, and Keiichi was shouting at his teammates for zone defense. The player Mitsui was guarding charged at him and faked a fall, garnering a foul and snickering at a very pissed Mitsui.

_/ Lame ass moron…_ /

Minutes passed by on the court and the Tigers pulled away from Miwa's team on the scoreboard, 96 to 82. A time-out was called by Coach Miwa and he was immediately surrounded by his players, the tension amidst them palpable. Still a little angry at the acting job his opponent pulled on him, Mitsui let it pass through his system and shook it off. Hearing a whistle from the crowd, he directed his gaze up the stands for an instant and saw a bunch of hands waving at him, among them a very happy Nanami.

/ _What could she be so happy about? We're losing!_ /

He reproached himself for not paying attention to Coach Miwa's instructions and just when he was about to look down at the clipboard, a louder whistle came from the same direction that made him look back up.

There, standing between Nanami and Kaname, was the face of whom he thought was Reiko, beaming down silently at him in noiseless encouragement. The shooting guard rubbed his eyes. / _Have I passed out already?_ /

"Mitsui-kun, did you hear what I just said?" piped Coach Miwa.

Turning his head to his coach, he gave him a dazed look. "Miwa-sensei, slap me."

The coach's head retracted in astonishment, and before he could reply, Akagi gave the shooting guard a good swat on the cheek.

"Ow!"

The center shrugged. "Hey, you asked for it."

"Good grief, now's not the time to be playing hanky-panky, people. Like I said, Mitsui-kun, the three-point line by the baseline is untouched territory for them. That's like your little picnic ground, I want you to take advantage of it. Miyagi-kun, the guy guarding you is in foul trouble. One more and he's out. Let's see if we can get you to win an Oscar this afternoon. And whatever you men do, don't let them pass the ball to number 32. Now go."

As they dispersed onto the court, Mitsui's curiosity tempted his gaze to stray back to Nanami and her companions, and he was disappointed to find Reiko gone. He snickered and slightly shook his head. / _My eyes are playing tricks on me… she wouldn't be here. _/ He approached the player he was guarding and looked around at his teammates. He could see the fire in Akagi's eyes as he strode over to guard the other team's center, his jaw clenched in determination. Hiding his seriousness underneath his leering grin, Miyagi prepared to guard his man. Kazuma and Keiichi looked like they were about to bore their opponents into the wooden floor with the harsh stare they've been giving them, and the shooting guard knew that they were in their own little zone of concentration. / _It's my turn to do the same._ / The other team inbounded the ball, and the hustle began. Staying on his man like glue, Mitsui nearly lost his cool after being elbowed twice in the ribs trying to guard his opponent, and just when he was about to jab back, Miyagi stole the ball again and the shooting guard took off as fast as he could to their goal. Seeing Mitsui approach the basket, the point guard passed the ball high in the air, allowing Mitsui to take the alleyoop pass and dunk the ball for a quick two. The crowd roared in applause, and as Mitsui ran down the court for defense, Miyagi slapped him a five and jerked his head at the bench.

"Take a look at the bench, Mitsui."

His eyes quickly fell on three heads bowed down to look at the stat sheet on Ayako's lap, with Coach Miwa pointing at it and a hulking Jackson whose hands were hidden behind his back as he bent down to look at the clipboard. From behind him stepped aside a bright-eyed Reiko, her azure eyes finding the shooting guard's wide ones. Her smile stopped him in his tracks, and in a daze he watched as Reiko pointed to herself, tapping the corner of her eye, and finally pointed to him.

/ _I see you…_ /

Something snapped within Mitsui and he let out a loud laugh that made his opponents exchange bewildered glances, the looks on his teammates odder still. Miyagi grinned and nodded at Akagi. He was perhaps the only one who understood what just happened. It was as if the shooting guard was liberated. In a blink of an eye, Mitsui got on his dribbling opponent, the guy irked at the scary look on his face. Reading the pass he was about to make, Mitsui winked at his rival and snapped at him like a guard dog would a robber, and it was enough to distract him from the stealing hand of Miyagi. Keiichi and Kazuma were already running down the court, and with a fast break they scored another two from the turnover. All that time, Mitsui couldn't wipe the grin off his face, and his teammates began to laugh at him.

"Man, Mitsui, you're scary."

"Are you foaming at the mouth or something?"

"Keep it up, Mitsui! You're a better actor than I am!"

After two failed field goal attempts and three more turnovers, the Sendai coach called for a timeout. Mitsui hurried to the bench and was handed a water bottle by his coach.

"Good job catching us up, Mitsui-kun," he said, patting his sweaty shoulder before turning to Akagi and the others on the bench.

"Thanks," he mumbled, turning his attention now to Reiko and the three bodyguards with her behind the bench. Catching his breath from the hustle and the excitement, he smiled. "I'm so surprised to see you guys here! I thought you were supposed to -"

"She finished early," interrupted Jackson. "You're doing an outstanding job on the court, Mitsui-san. It's like you're on fire."

Mitsui looked at Reiko and grinned. "I guess it just takes the right kind of fuel. I'm so glad to see you here, Reiko-san."

She gave him the same heart-melting smile that made him weak in the knees. "You're giving the crowd something to cheer about, Mitsui-san. Even the gentlemen in the press box can't stop commenting about your performance."

Awkward at taking compliments from her, Mitsui's hand reflexively reached for the back of his neck. "Thanks, Reiko…" he mumbled, his gaze fixed at her smiling eyes, then realizing how he addressed her, he quickly shook his head. "I mean… Reiko-san."

She nearly laughed. "Good luck, Mitsui-san. I'll be cheering for you."

"Mitsui-san, win this for me and you and I can split my winnings off of Miller," added Fuji with a smirk.

Coach Miwa called on the shooting guard and he tore his eyes away from Reiko to look at the play on his coach's clipboard. Seconds later they were back on the court, with only a few minutes left remaining and the score gap closer by four points. Nearly everyone in the shouting crowd stood on their feet, and it was getting difficult to hear on the court. Taking the vibrating phone from his belt clip, Jackson answered.

"This is Jackson."

"How's it going over there?"

"Just fine, sir. It seems Nakamichi-dono's presence is a firestarter."

Dr. Nakamichi heaved a sigh. "Let's hope it won't hurt her this time."

Jackson agreed with a grunt.

Tapping a knuckle against his chin, the doctor's voice lowered to a grim tone. "Jackson… Miller gave me the report when you guys left."

"Yes sir?"

"Kamata-sensei's grandson is the one after Reiko."

The bulky guard's free hand dug in his pocket as his eyes followed the players running on the court, his jaw clenched.

"I know I'd still be worried if the assailant was just some ego-shot professor, but the fact that he's the head of R&D at Lexicon Labs bothers me to no end. I've let my niece go and do whatever she pleased, but even now people from the same pharmaceutical company are still after her."

Jackson found himself speechless at the doctor's words. By now Mitsui had scored another three-pointer, and the tall guard looked up at the scoreboard. Just one point behind the Tigers.

"I never thought I would be placed in a situation where I would even consider my last and final option." Jackson's breath caught and he fought to keep his face calm as he held his cell phone to his ear. "Am I really out of other options, Jackson?... She's found happiness. I don't want to take that away from her."

A minute to go on the game clock and Akagi just dunked the ball, giving them a one-point lead over the Tigers. The Sendai coach was on his feet frantically gesturing to his team to hustle up, his face crumpled into a sour frown.

"It's your call, sir. Do what you think is best for both you and Nakamichi-dono."

Jackson turned his head to glance over Reiko, the smile on her face ineffaceable as she watched her stretch partner receive a pass from Miyagi. A lump had formed in the guard's throat that made it hard to swallow.

"She's going to think I'm the biggest asshole on the face of this earth."

From Mitsui to Akagi, the ball was tossed wildly around, to Keiichi, then to Miyagi again who jumped to take a shot, only to sling the ball to the waiting hands of Mitsui. Taking Coach Miwa's advice, he found the empty slot at the three-point line by the baseline and took his shot. Miwa eyes followed the path of the ball, its smooth arc ending and landing through the basket. Nothing but net. Every one on the bench stood in excitement, raising their hands in excitement as they cheered their hustling teammates down the court.

"If it's in her best interest…" Jackson hesitated.

"She's got status and fame, and she's the kind of person who stands out even if she tried to hide under a rock."

Jackson wished he wasn't there to hear the doctor remind him; his words before left a dreadful impression in his mind that sickened him with each recollection.

"She's got a great name."

Miyagi delivered a flawless performance on his acting job and got the man he guarded to foul out. With one of their best players gone, Akagi and the others were more than willing to take advantage of the slack with only seconds to go.

"But even great things have to come to an end."

Jackson remained still and silent, closing his eyes as if to prevent his mind from hearing the words to follow.

"And we have to end it, Jackson."

Ten seconds left, and Kazuma managed to tap the ball away from his man and Miyagi quickly recovered it, sending Mitsui another alleyoop pass that sealed their victory with a dunk for two, ending the game with a final score of 97 to 96. The roar of the applause and cheer of the crowd was deafening, and Coach Miwa and his men crashed into a pile of jubilant bodies, hugging each other and slapping high fives all around. Coach Miwa was so happy, he cried. Ayako found Miyagi on the court and was embraced and whirled around in his strong arms, their elation knowing no boundaries. Akagi was hugged by Kazuma and Keiichi on both sides, and the tall center palmed their heads with a gentle pat. Looking up at the stands once more, he found Nanami standing still in the midst of her rejoicing friends and teammates, the smile on her face widening as silently mouthed the words 'good job' to him. He grinned. Coach Miwa got a hug from his shooting guard and with big pats on his back, he thanked him for a job well done. Letting him go, Mitsui immediately reached for Reiko and found liberation in her arms, their victory and her presence giving him a sense of completion. Jackson remained motionless despite the revelry around him, his face unable to change its blank, sad look as he kept the phone to his ear.

"We have to kill her name."

Jackson blinked and shifted his gaze to the stretch partners locked in a thrilled embrace, the smile and sparkle in her cerulean eyes testament to the happiness she felt. He quickly sucked in air before responding back.

"Yes, sir. Understood."

He hung up and let his arm dangle at his side, the cell phone still in his clutch. Despite Sakai and Fuji's loud cheers, Jackson couldn't move himself to take part in the celebration, for Dr. Nakamichi's decision would change all the charged and cheerful emotions around him into tears. He let his eyes stay on Mitsui and Reiko and their smiling, laughing faces.

Jackson turned around and left unnoticed, the hand holding his cell phone quickly wiping away an escaping tear from the corner of his eye.


	20. Chapter 20

          Getting pats on his back, Mitsui laughed and thanked his teammates as he took the towel thrown to him by Ayako to wipe his face. Reiko remained behind the bench and looked on as the shooting guard and his teammates lifted their coach up on their shoulders, Coach Miwa's wife teary-eyed at the scene as her triumphant husband rode on the strength of his victorious players. And for a short, unforgettable moment, Coach Miwa watched the proud, smiling faces of his men as the rush of adrenaline compounded the euphoric feeling of winning as he took a long-drawn breath in: this was the air of victory.

          Sakai found Jackson pacing in the hallway, the worried look on his face unmasked by the furrow on his brow. Moments before, he saw the huge guard retreat through the side doors leading to the emergency exit of the visitors' locker room, and instinct told him to leave Fuji behind to settle his inquiry. With a calm, slow stride, Sakai approached Jackson whose back was towards him, and at the sound of his footsteps Jackson turned around with his large hand swiping over his tired eyes. 

         "Hey Jackson… you okay?"

He nodded a few times as he looked down, as if trying to convince himself. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up, eyes still on the floor. Seeing Jackson like this made Sakai uneasy; the last time he saw him this agitated was the day they had the memorial for the Nakamichis. When he lost his composure, Jackson was very transparent. He saw the large guard shake his head.

"Actually… no, I'm not."

Leaning his shoulder against the wall, Sakai dug his hands in his pockets. "Wanna talk about it?"

"It's not going to make me feel any better, but –"

Jackson looked past his colleague's shoulder and lowered his voice. "Dr. Nakamichi called..."

Sakai raised his brows in expectation. "And?"

"And—"

The side doors opened and Reiko entered the hallway, her head craning left before finding them on her right. With a bright grin on her glowing face she strode over to her guards, slowing her stride upon seeing the worry on Jackson's brow. She completely stopped just a few feet away from her two guards. 

"Mr. Jackson… Is there something wrong?"

The two guards exchanged quick glances and Jackson weakly replied. "My stomach hurts… must've been something I ate."

      "Oh." Momentarily gazing to the side, she could tell that something was clearly bothering Jackson, so much so that it showed through his otherwise calm exterior. "Would you feel better if we returned to the house?"

'I wish…' the muscled guard thought wryly to himself. "I'll be all right, don't worry. I'm sure it'll go away soon."

Sakai looked at his partner before addressing Reiko. "Where's Mitsui-san?"

"In the locker room," she answered with a smile at the mention of the shooting guard's name. "They will be having some sort of party at Miyagi-san's home, and they have extended their invitation to us."

Sakai's face brightened somehow. "Would you like to go?"

She pursed her lips in thought. 

"Perhaps it might be best if I returned to the house. Uncle Tak is waiting for us."

Fuji eventually found them in the hallway and joined the group, his hands in his pockets and a winning grin blanketing his happy face. "Mitsui-san is a money maker!" he announced. "There's a mile-long line of reporters outside the locker room, and some pro scouts are talking contract offers."

"Good for him," muttered Jackson, his demeanor regaining its collected air. He even managed to crack a slight smile.

Fuji leaned his broad back against the brick wall of the hallway. "So, where to next?"

"The house."

With a nod, Fuji turned on his heels and left to fetch the vehicle. Sakai and Jackson flanked Reiko on either side and all three began to head for the exit when she quickly stayed them with a gentle tug of their arms.

"May I take a few moments to tell Mitsui-san of my plans?"

Before the guards could give their approval, the shooting guard walked into the hallway, his face beaming at the sight of Reiko. 

"I'm glad I found you guys," he said, a little out of breath. "Will you be coming to the party?"

Looking at the guards for a moment, she walked towards a hopeful Mitsui and discussed their plans for the evening. As the two lost themselves in quiet chatter, Sakai turned and whispered to Jackson.

"What exactly did Dr. Nakamichi tell you?"

Casting a side glance at his partner, the burly guard clenched his jaws and exhaled. 

"He requested a hit."

Sakai turned around and pretended to answer a call on his cell phone with a quieted, sardonic laugh. "Who is it? The professor? He's already in jail."

Hearing no response from Jackson, he turned to him and found his partner's gaze fixed at the talking couple, his eyes betraying a sense of trepidation. Sakai looked at the pair of smiling athletes immersed in conversation. Jackson took one more deep breath and exhaled slowly before he spoke.

"You're looking at her."

Sakai's eyes widened at the statement and his meek face paled as he looked to Jackson once more. His gaze immediately sagged with sadness to the floor, quickly willing himself to put on a sporting face as Reiko walked back towards them and silently agreeing with Jackson's choice of ailment earlier as his insides churned with regret. So, he thought, it finally comes to this…

They finally exited the building, both guards quietly contemplating the extreme situation they were going to face as they whipped their heads down at a beaming Reiko, her impish grin bright and content as she twined both arms around her guards' long and muscled ones. Jackson tried to return her smile, only to produce a small, unsure grin as he opened the back passenger door of the Suburban to let Reiko board. For snuffing that smile with all her hopes and promise behind it, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

****************************************************************************************

"Hey Akagi, where's Mitchy?" asked Miyagi loudly as he rinsed off the shampoo from his curly hair. 

The tall center took in a mouthful of shower water before spitting it out. "Last I saw him, he bolted out the door to look for Reiko-san."

"Of course," grinned Miyagi as he shut the water off. Grabbing his towel, he briskly dried his hair and the rest of his body, wrapping the towel around his waist before emerging from the showers. Akagi followed him a moment later.

"It looks like Mitsui found himself a place in the spotlight. The media's going crazy outside," commented the point guard as he grabbed for his deodorant.

Akagi laughed. "You're not jealous, are you, Miyagi?"

With a smile, Miyagi shook his head. "Not at all. The only person I want interviewing me is Aya-chan, and if I don't hurry, I'll miss my chance. You're coming to the party, right?"

"You got chicken wings?"

"And bananas, too, just for you, because you've done a great job tonight, Gori."

It was enough to spur the bulky center to whip the towel from his shoulders and hit Miyagi on his buttocks, producing a laughing yelp from the fleeing point guard. The two ran around the locker room a few times before the coach quieted every one down for an announcement.

"Gather round, men," Coach Miwa said in a loud voice. "I would like to congratulate you all on a job very well done. I'll make sure you guys get a tape of what we saw out on the court. Outstanding job, folks. And please, if you're going to party hard tonight, please be responsible. Watch out for each other, and don't let anyone drive drunk from the party."

"Hear, hear," echoed the team.

"You might want to thank Ayako-chan for keeping up with the books and stats, and for making sure your stinky, sweaty towels are taken out to the washed."

"Nobody thank her with a kiss, guys. That's my job!" Miyagi said in mock reproach, making his whole team laugh. "Miwa-sensei, you're coming, right? The last party I threw, you didn't even bother showing up," he added, pretending to be hurt by the offense.

"Hey now, if the wife says no go, it's no go."

Cheers and cat calls resonated throughout the room. "You're so whipped, Miwa-sensei!"

Their coach rolled his eyes. "Yeah, tell me about it." He waited for the jeers to die down before continuing. "But all playing aside, I want you to watch out for each other. I'll try and persuade the wife to let me go to the party, Miyagi-kun."

Miyagi winked at his coach. "No need for persuasion, Miwa-sensei. Aya-chan's got that covered."

He was answered with a laugh. "Ah, the power of womanly persuasion… Damn it! We men are just pawns, I tell you. Pawns!"

Every one chuckled with their heads nodding. 

"Wait a minute, where's Mitsui-kun?" asked the coach, his eyes scanning the locker room.

"I think he got mobbed by reporters outside," answered Kazuma with a jerk of his thumb.

Coach Miwa heaved a sigh. "All right… You guys be courteous to them. No gloating, now. Understood?"

"Yes, Miwa-sensei," sang the men in girlish cacophony.

Mitsui's attempt to get past the microphones, bright lights and cameras failed when one of the reporters saw him trying to sneak past some photographers. Quickly apprehended, he was bombarded by questions he didn't really have the answers to, like which professional team he would like to sign with if he had the choice, or if he would consider playing professionally next season and leave his team behind. His answers were more on the confused but respectful side, vague and open-ended. Finally feeling the locker room door handle behind his back, he quickly grabbed it and thanked every one for their time, opened the door and shut it behind him. His teammates immediately looked at him as he cocked his head back, his eyes closed with relief.

"What happened to you, Mitchy? Can't take the limelight?" teased Miyagi as he tied his shoes.

"Crap, you said it." The shooting guard quickly shrugged out of his clothing, tossed his shoes and socks into his locker and hit the showers. 

"Hey Mitchy, is Reiko-san coming to the party?" yelled Miyagi above the loud sound of the shower. 

"Unfortunately, no. She'll be spending some time with her uncle," he shouted back, scrubbing himself down with a soapy bath poof.

"That's too bad. I'm pretty sure her teammates will be at the party, and I'm sure they all want to see and talk to her."

// _They'd better get in line. // Mitsui grinned at the thought._

"You're showing up for the party, right?" hollered the point guard as he slung his gym bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll be there." 

****************************************************************************************

Once he emerged from the locker room, Mitsui's whole family pounced at him with a big group hug. On the way home, Ami chattered excitedly at how proud she was of her brother, and how some of the girls near their seats screamed for him like he was some gorgeous pop star.

"Gorgeous, yes. Pop star, no," the shooting guard joked, winking at his laughing little sister who rolled her eyes.

Walking through the front door of their home, Mrs. Mitsui gave his son another bone-crushing hug. "I'm so proud of you, Hisashi! I think I'm going to lose my voice after all that yelling."

"We're all proud of you, son."

"He really means it, Onii-chan! Dad kept shouting 'that's my boy!' to everyone around him!"

Mr. Mitsui ruffled Ami's hair and tickled her. "Okay, cheer police! I plead guilty already!"

They all dispersed from the front door, Mitsui going to his room upstairs, Ami sighing happily all the way to the kitchen and his parents quietly walking to the den. A few minutes later, Ami called on her brother.

"Onii-chan! Come down, quick!" Ami chimed.

Mitsui ran down the stairs and found his whole family in the den, an eager grin plastered across his parents and Ami looked like she could hardly contain herself. Puzzled, Mitsui looked at his family in inquiry.

"What's going on?"

The scheming trio looked at each other. "Son, we know how hard you've been working with school and basketball on top of that, and when you told us that you wanted to work to save money for a ride, we really admired you for it," Mr. Mitsui said, pausing to look down.

"Your father and I had the biggest argument over this, but I think you're responsible enough to handle anything life throws at you. After what happened years ago back in high school, we were afraid we'd lost you for good. Thanks for proving us wrong and becoming a son any parent would be proud of."

Mitsui smiled as he changed gazes among his parents and Ami. "What's this all about?"

Mr. Mitsui laughed. "We make decisions every day, son. And tonight we want you to make a decision on what Christmas present you're going to get."

The shooting guard's face lit. "You mean I actually have a choice?"

All of them answered with a nod, and Mitsui was floored. "Wow."

"So what'll it be, Onii-chan?" Ami asked, holding out both hands in closed fists before him. "Right or left?"

Eyes glancing at his smiling father first, then at an encouraging Mrs. Mitsui, and finally at a beaming, giggling Ami, he gently tapped his little sister's right hand. She turned and opened her fist to reveal a set of keys in the palm of her small hand. 

"Merry Christmas, Hisashi!" they chorused gleefully, and Ami handed her brother the keys, Mitsui a little dumbfounded with what was going on.

"Wha—"

"Come on, it's in the garage!" 

Mr. and Mrs. Mitsui laughed at the contorted face of their confused son as Ami pulled on his arm and led him to a stumbling start to the garage. Armed with a digital video camera, they followed their children into the garage to find their son's face in absolute astonishment, at which moment they began to record the expected reaction.

"Good God…!"

Ami squealed in delight. "Isn't that awesome?! Onii-chan, you got a car!"

Her brother blinked a few times, his hand reaching for Ami's head. 

"Ami, pinch me, quick…"

She continued to giggle instead and jumped onto her brother, her sprightly excitement quickly infecting Mitsui's senses as he began to laugh and whirl Ami in his grasp. "I'll do more than that, Onii-chan! I'll pinch you all around the block when you take me for a ride! Let's go!"

Mitsui let his sister down, taking in the sight of the vehicle before him under the garage's bright fluorescent lights. It was a graphite grey car, whose sporty and sleek design impressed Mitsui to no end ever since the car appeared on a television commercial.

"Isn't it a cutie, Hisashi?" said Mrs. Mitsui, her eyes and hand steady behind the camera. "When we saw it on the lot, it had your name written all over it!"

"Wow.... this is,... this is just too much! How... how did you know?"

His father laughed. "Did you think we were blind? You're like a deer staring at headlights whenever this car's ad came on the tube! So how about taking it for a spin, see how you like it?"

Too thunderstruck at their generosity, Mitsui speechlessly gazed at the keys Ami had handed him, disarmed the car alarm and opened the car door. Mr. and Mrs. Mitsui relished at their son's disbelieving stare as he sat in the driver's seat and started the car, the hum and purr of the engine waking him out of his doubtful reverie.

"She's a fine example of Japanese engineering, son," Mr. Mitsui stated as he walked over and leaned his elbow on the door frame. "I wanted you to have a car you'll be comfortable in, with a nice but fast ride that suits your taste." He pointed at the gear shift. "It looks like an Altezza, but this got shipped from America, and over there, they call it a Lexus. This thing has a 215 horsepower, in-line 6 cylinder engine. It has this thing called an e-shift, and you can either drive it like it's a 5-speed or an automatic. I guess that's entirely up to your mood," he said with a wink. "The other cars look very muscled and stylized, but this baby will take you wherever you need to go, however fast you want to go without having to modify a lot because it's already done for you. That is, unless, you want to go faster."

Mr. Mitsui knew he didn't need to be told what the car had under the hood: his son already knew. Subdued by his wonderment, he grinned as he watched his son's hand grip the steering wheel, still amazed at the surprise.

"Pops, I was a bad kid... I don't deserve this..." he trailed off, fingering the leather trim of the wheel.

Mr. Mitsui could feel the clutch of proud sentiment choke his throat. "You've really grown into a good man, Hisashi. You make this old man proud."

Father and son engaged in an embrace that made Ami sigh and Mrs. Mitsui teary-eyed. 

"I don't know what to say, Pops."

"Tell me you'll drive safely, finish school, find a wife someday and give me lots of grandkids. That's good enough for me."

Mitsui laughed in his father's tight embrace. Letting his son go, he urged him to strap on his seatbelt and go for a ride. Minutes later, they all found themselves strapped in the car headed for the highway per Mr. Mitsui's suggestion. Once merging onto the highway, Mr. Mitsui instructed him to gun it to his utmost surprise.

"You'll never know what kind of punch it pulls unless you try it. Honey, Ami, hold on tight! Now go for it, Hisashi!"

Mitsui floored the gas pedal and sent the car flying down the freeway, the speeding car a grey blur in the eyes of the other drivers on the road. After a mile or so of joyriding, he exited and pulled into the ice cream shop as his parents requested. Adrenaline still rushing through his veins, Mitsui ate a spoonful of his parfait as he looked at his new car from their booth. A few of the ice cream shop's patrons recognized the shooting guard and gave their congratulations, and after learning who he was, the shop owner came over to congratulate them as well, with their orders on the house. On the way home, they were all singing along to a popular tune on the radio, and as they got out of the car, Mitsui gave his parents a deep bow of gratitude.

"For your love, support and faith in me, and for everything, I thank you both so much."

****************************************************************************************

Ami was in the kitchen helping her mother make tea and Mr. Mitsui joined his son on the couch as he turned on the television. 

"In the local news tonight, mathematics professor Kawamura Shinichi of the University of Kanagawa was charged with the attempted murder of Nakamichi Reiko, collegiate volleyball's number one MVP pick this season. If convicted, Kawamura will face 40 years in jail without the possibility of parole. Nakamichi was unavailable for a commentary but is stated to be in stable and good condition. Now, for a look at sports."

Mitsui's contentment was momentarily extinguished at the sight of the professor's face on television, every muscle in his body contracting in anger at what hell he put Reiko and everybody around her through. Feeling the anger emanate from his son, Mr. Mitsui's hand fell on his son's muscled shoulder. 

"He won't hurt her anymore, Hisashi. Let it go," he said quietly.

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Mitsui shook his head. "It's a good thing I'm not in a gang anymore... the things I'd do to him..."

"Tea's ready!" sang Ami as she brought the tray over to the coffee table, diffusing her brother's anger as she poured the tea into the cups. 

"I suppose you now know what it feels like to protect the ones you love with a vicious passion," stated Mr. Mitsui before taking a sip of his tea. 

    Looking his father's way, Mitsui smiled quietly at him as he thanked Ami for handing him his cup. As he watched the steam rise from the teacup, he couldn't help but think of his azure-eyed stretch partner, whose striking smile and bright orbs of blue reminded him of warm promises and happiness beyond his imagination.

"Onii-chan, you're on TV!"

**************************************************************************************

"Uncle Tak, I'd like to give them their present now."

        A smile. 

"Come on, I'll go with you."

Not letting another minute pass by, niece and uncle dressed themselves for the cool evening weather and rounded up the bodyguards to the foyer of the house. Expecting to go to Yoshi's restaurant for a late dinner, the men were a bit surprised upon learning that they were going out of town to another one of the Nakamichi summer houses. After catching a glimpse of that elfish grin from Reiko, Jackson knew that she was up to something, and with Christmas just a day away, he knew what this was about. Piling into the Suburban, Dr. Nakamichi asked Fuji to take them to the summer house by Tokyo Bay. 

Upon arriving at the majestic house, they were all greeted by the mothers and siblings of the very surprised guards, all four elatedly embracing their relatives. As they filed into the house, dinner was waiting for them in the house's sizeable dining room, and they all thanked Yoshi who arrived hours before they did to prepare large courses of meals. Gleeful chatter at the dinner table made the evening all the more lively, and by the time tea was served, the bodyguards pulled Reiko and Dr. Nakamichi aside to show their gratitude with a most respectful bow. 

"Thank you so much," they chorused. 

"Merry Christmas, gentlemen," Reiko said softly. 

Dr. Nakamichi waved them off and replied that it was the least he could do for protecting Reiko, and motioned them to the living room for dessert. As they headed that way, Sakai tapped on Jackson's shoulder and pulled him aside. 

"Do Fuji and Miller know?"

Jackson shook his head. "They won't know until tomorrow. No use spoiling this homecoming with their families."

Agreeing, Sakai silently trailed behind his partner and both were given a plate of peach cobbler before taking their seats, somewhat reluctant to fork a piece of the treat in their mouths at the thought of the younger guards' possible reactions.

****************************************************************************************

Yohei and Sakuragi never failed to find their way around the Miyagis' living room when it came to setting up the DJ equipment for a party. It took them no longer than ten minutes to set everything down, hook all the cables up and huddle by the plug socket to celebrate the first power-driving surge to the amplifiers. Ayako never understood this odd merriment over a plug, and she just shrugged her shoulders as she placed two platters of chicken on the dining table. Returning to the kitchen, she encountered her beau going the other way with several wine and shot glasses in hand. Planting a quick kiss on her head, he made her laugh as he gave Sakuragi and his Gundan an approving nod while he set the glasses down by the bar. 

"Got a request, Ryochin?" asked Yohei, flipping through his CD case.

"Yeah, play something that'll make Aya-chan dance!" 

"Roger that!"

As the bass began to boom throughout the house, Mr. and Mrs. Miyagi burst through the front door with their eldest son and Rukawa trailing behind them. Rukawa was like a silent, automated bartender, whose movements were precise machinations of measured pouring. 

"Rukawa-kun, could you make me a martini?" requested Mr. Miyagi as he and his wife took their shoes off. Answered with a nod, Rukawa made haste behind the bar.

"Where's everybody else?" asked Mrs. Miyagi.

"They're coming, Mom. I guess they wanted to spend a little time with their families before coming here." Miyagi whipped his head at the sound of his name.

"Ryota, could you get the tray from the top shelf of this cabinet?" asked Ayako's voice from the kitchen. "I can't jump high enough to reach it."

Miyagi sighed at the honeyed voice before puffing up his chest in front of his family. "Yes, Aya-chan! Ryota will save the day!" 

The Miyagis laughed at their son's romantic antics, his older brother laughing the hardest. 

Members of the basketball team filed individually through the front door every other minute, and everyone cheered when Coach Miwa showed up with his wife in tow. Ayako winked at Mrs. Miwa, and she merely giggled as Coach Miwa watched the quiet feminine exchange in thought, wondering how women controlled men's actions so easily.

Taking a bite off a drumstick, Akagi scanned the room as he stood by Miyagi and Ayako. "Where's Mitsui?"

"He'll show up. He likes being fashionably late, remember?" answered Miyagi.

"It's too bad Reiko-chan won't be coming," Ayako sighed, swirling the drink in her hand as she silently hoped that she would come.

"Man, it's been a crazy season. I've been getting the feeling that anything goes around here, especially ever since Reiko-san showed up, with Mitsui joining the team and all." Miyagi reached for the ringing cell phone from his pocket. "Hello? Hey, Mitsui. You showing up or what?... What?! That's awesome! Swing it by so we can take a look at it! See you in a few." Miyagi hung up and grinned at Akagi. "Guess what, Gori. Mitsui got a new ride for Christmas."

The tall center nearly choked on the morsel of chicken he just swallowed. "You're kidding! That's great! Now if we could just get him to carry a cell phone…"

In the living room, Sakuragi and Haruko were engaged in conversation as they talked into each other's ear above the loud music from the speakers. Yohei was busy manning the turntables and Yuuji handed him CDs one by one as each song ended. A few minutes later Nanami and the volleyball team showed up with Coach Sato and his wife, and looking at Coach Sato's fatherly stance made everyone see them as a family of athletic sorts. Welcomed by the Miyagis, the Satos were ushered to the game room where the 'oldies-but-goodies' hung out, and the living room was filled with even more chatter when the volleyball team settled themselves on the sofa. 

    A moment later, Mitsui walked through the door, greeted by roomful of people.

"Mitsui!"

****************************************************************************************

    "Well, Rei, the men will be staying there for the next couple of days. What would you like to do now?"

Laughing shrug.

"How about we play a game of chess?"

Wrinkled nose.

"I'll pass. You always beat me."

Chuckle.

"Well then, what do you suggest we do?"

Silent thought.

"Jackson mentioned you were invited to a party this evening. It's ten o'clock now... do you think it would be too late to join your friends?"

Surprise.

"But… I thought you wanted to spend some time with me."

"Well, yes, but I think it would be selfish of me not to share you with your friends, especially your noble shooting guard."

Giggling whine. 

"Uncle Tak…"

"And I was thinking, maybe you can introduce me to your friends. Unless, of course, you don't want an old coot like me hanging around your friends."

A playful slap on his wrist.

"There is no reason for this mock self-pity, Uncle Tak. I didn't know if you were up to being around people with your jet lag, and I thought that perhaps a quiet evening would be more to your liking."

"Well, this bag of bones is getting old. I might as well go out and do something while I'm still somewhat mobile."

"And what of my puppy?"

"We'll stop by the house, let him out and feed him. The laundry room is surprisingly warm, he'll be all right in there. We'll just make it up to him later when we come back. So, how's that idea?"  
  


Warm smile.

"It sounds great."

Pulling into the estate's driveway, Dr. Nakamichi and Reiko got out of the Suburban, he going to the garage and taking one of the keys off the key holder on the wall to start one of the cars, she into the house to seek out her Christmas present that was eager to see her with a bark. She let it run around the vastness of the backyard to do its business, and obediently returned to her after hearing her call. In the laundry room, she set the pillow down that her bodyguards gave her for the dog, poured some food into a porcelain bowl for the pup and some water in another. Petting the animal's furry head, she bid the pup to be good and stand guard until they come home. Happy at its obedience, she closed the door and walked to the garage, mentally noting that she had yet to give her dog a name.

Reiko saw her uncle in the driveway with the Benz's motor quietly running. Hearing him cough dryly several times, she placed a palm against her uncle's back that made him jump.

"Rei!" he started, straightening up in her presence. "God, you scared me."

"Are you all right, Uncle Tak? We don't have to go if you don't want to," her worried voice said, slightly rubbing the palm of her hand against his back. 

"I may have inhaled some dust from the garage. It doesn't look like it's been touched in a long time."

Reiko's eyes crinkled as she smiled. "The Suburban is the only car that seats us all. I've told the others to use Dad's and Onii-san's cars, but they don't seem to be interested in driving them."

"Well, tonight, it'll just be you and me, kid," Dr. Nakamichi replied happily with a wink. "Maybe tomorrow I'll take Hideki's toy out for a drive, but that can wait. Ready to go?"

"Yes." As she opened the car door, she paused. "No, wait. Should we bring something?"

"Oh yeah… I'll be right back."

Reiko watched her uncle disappear into the house only to emerge a minute later with two bottles of wine and champagne in hand. 

"I hope they like Dom, because there are a lot of these bottles on the wine rack. No doubt these have been there for quite some time." The doctor opened the driver-side door. "Think these will do?"

"I'm sure they would be pleased."

With that, they drove out of the driveway, Reiko glancing vaguely at the bottles her uncle handed over that were now on her lap. She remembered her parents having a crate of bottles sent to their house for one of their fundraising parties for cancer research, but after the catastrophe, they laid in wait for a happier occasion. And indeed, the basketball team's victory was such an occasion. She smiled at the thought of seeing Mitsui at the party as she looked up at the fleeting tops of the light posts. 

****************************************************************************************

Opening the drawer beneath the desk, Jackson found and took out a sheet of paper. Standing pensively by the desk, he looked around the room. With the other guards gone to the other summer houses and his mother sleeping upstairs, Jackson was a little comforted by the silence the spacious surroundings offered him, and after drumming his fingers against the sheet of paper, he took his seat and pen and began to draw a series of squares and circles, parallel and winding series circuits. 

****************************************************************************************

No one noticed them walk through the front door with all the guests preoccupied with chatter and music. A number of them were engaged in dance, and Sakuragi's height made him stand out from the rest of the swaying crowd. A sprightly shriek from Miki and Sayuri caught everyone's attention despite the loud music, and all heads in the living room turned to them as they approached their teammate.

"Reiko-chan! We're so glad you could make it!" giggled Miki excitedly, and as soon as she noticed Reiko wasn't alone, Miki quickly put on her best behavior upon eyeing the tall gentleman beside her. "Please excuse my manners. I'm Miki, and this is Sayuri."

Dr. Nakamichi flashed a grin that made the girls weak in their knees. "Glad to meet you, Miki, Sayuri. I'm Tak Nakamichi, Reiko's uncle." 

The two were awestruck at the older man's handsome charm, and Nanami was laughing at them by the window where she stood with Akagi. There was something about older men that made those two weak in the knees. Turning her eyes at Reiko and her uncle, Nanami came to the conclusion that beauty was no accident in the Nakamichi family. 

Mitsui paused his conversation with Rukawa at the bar and craned his head around the corner, mumbling a silent prayer that it would be her. To his delighted surprise, it was indeed her, with Dr. Nakamichi and two bottles of what looked like wine. With a garbled excuse, Mitsui left the bar to Rukawa's keep and walked up to the Nakamichis. 

"You guys sure know how to liven up a party," he said to Reiko, his grin warm and inviting. Extending a hand to Dr. Nakamichi, he addressed her uncle. "I'm glad you could come, sir."

Meeting the shooting guard's grip with his, the doctor nodded at Mitsui. "Congratulations, Mitsui-san." A second later, Miyagi came into view with Ayako in tow. 

"This is Miyagi Ryota and his girlfriend Ayako. Guys, this is Dr. Nakamichi, Reiko's uncle." 

After the introduction, the doctor handed the bottles of wine to Miyagi and Ayako who bowed in gratitude. Miyagi led Dr. Nakamichi to the game room where more handshakes and how-do-you-do's were exchanged. They were shooting pool, and the women were having a hard time against the men, so Dr. Nakamichi decided to roll up his sleeves and aid the women by clearing the whole table after the first break. 

"Well, I guess being a phenom must run in the family," commented Coach Sato as he rubbed the tip of his cue stick with blue chalk. 

****************************************************************************************

After an hour or so, Mitsui chanced to steal Reiko from her festive teammates and led her outside to where he parked his Christmas present. She smiled and congratulated him, stating that the car suited his personality. 

"How so?" he asked, cocking his head back playfully at her. 

"Well," she started, walking up to the car and touching it. "It's more of what's on the inside than out."

He arched a brow. "And that is?"

With the pad of her slender fingers, she slid them across the charcoal grey finish as she walked to the front of the car, her touch almost imparting a caressing touch that made Mitsui wish he was the very hood of the car. 

"It's got a quiet strength that doesn't boast... calm and yet strong when you need it to be... knows how to balance grace and force at the same time." She paused to look at the car from a frontal view, finding its smooth lines and sporty curves more than appropriate for the vehicle.

Mitsui could only stare at her, his heart beating out of sync at her words. // How could she know me like that? // 

"How do you do that?"

She turned to gaze at him. "Do what?"

"Make me feel like I'm the greatest guy on earth."

Reiko smiled softly and looked at the car once more. "Perhaps it's because you bring the best out of everybody, including their opinion of you." 

He walked to her side, hands in his jacket pockets, nervous flutters in his chest. For a few moments, he didn't know what to tell her or even how to say how much she means to him. All that time while he prepared himself for Miyagi's party, he kept thinking over and over of how he would say what he felt, and even though he had showed her more than once before, he wanted to find the words to express it. Opening his mouth, he was beaten to the punch as Reiko spoke.

"You were really amazing on the court, Mitsui-san," she said, now eyeing the interior of the car. Pausing to look up at him, she added, "You have a very bright future ahead of you."

// _Only if you're in it. //_

"I owe it all to you, you know. If you hadn't played volleyball for Sato-sensei, I wouldn't have played for the team."

"I suppose we both owe him our gratitude," she replied, making Mitsui chuckle at her logic. When his laughter died down, she leaned against the side of the car and looked up the cold night sky, shrinking into the warmth of her black coat. "Nanami and the others told me of an end-of-season banquet that the athletic department is throwing for both teams. What is that like?"

"Oh, that. Well," he said as he leaned against the car beside her, "it's kind of formal, and the ladies usually dress fancy for it. The guys wear their penguin suits and they go over the highlights and accomplishments of the teams."

"Oh."

"Then they give out awards for MVPs, defensive players of the year, all that good stuff. I had to go last year because Sato-sensei made me, that old monkey..."

Brows rising in smiling surprise, Reiko turned to face Mitsui's frowning face. "Why?"

"His excuse was that I took down all the stats for his team last season, and because I helped the team out, I had to be there to be recognized. Well, it turned out that he was just too lame to be seen as the only guy with a tux on for the volleyball team and he didn't want to be singled out."

His ears welcomed her gentle laughter, his eyes glancing at her to see the soft crinkling of her eyes as she smiled. 

"Perhaps this time it will be different, since you'll be with the men's basketball team and Miwa-sensei."

Mitsui shrugged. "Actually, now I don't mind at all if Sato-sensei makes me attend again."

"Why, what will make it different this time?"

He looked her in the eye for a moment and answered. "Someone really precious to me is on his team."

Her face softened at his words, prompting her to look down to hide the flush on her cheeks that betrayed her. Mitsui decided to take it from there, and though he feared that he might stutter, he needed to tell her. 

"I – I really mean that... You are very, very precious to me, Reiko-san... beyond words. I thought I would go mad when we rushed you to the hospital. I was so unprepared and scared to even think of what it might be like if you weren't here anymore. I can only imagine... a very cold and hollow existence for me."

Reiko knew the feeling all too well, and her loss was magnified by four times the weight of despair in her heart. She knowingly nodded, telling Mitsui that she understood him well.

"You know, my father made me realize something when he gave me this car. I am capable of making my family proud of me, and I can become a person deserving respect. These thoughts never once crossed my mind before, because whatever I did then, I did because it was my job. I pretty much sucked at school, and I was just a basketball jock."

Reiko was about to utter words in his defense but was stayed by the touch of Mitsui's finger on her lips. 

"I thought I could be a person that people could really respect, not just for shooting a burnt-orange ball into a netted hoop, but for accomplishing something that requires the use of my brain. I tried really hard, I even got Akagi to help me once in a while with homework... and to tell you the truth, I thought that if I was to become this respectable person, I had to give up something I was really good at to concentrate more on my studies." Mitsui dared to trace the soft and delicate line of her jaw and tucked a straying lock of hair behind her ear. "That was until you came along." His hand lingered against her cheek for a few moments before grazing his thumb across her cheek. Encouraged by her vivid blue eyes that met his tender gaze, he continued. 

"You made me realize that I don't have to give up my childhood dream for a more realistic one. I can do both. You make me see things in a different, brighter light... You give me a sense of direction when it comes to making decisions, and I don't know how I would've found solid ground without you..." Pausing to take in the fairness of her face, he looked into her eyes and spoke in a low, hushed, confessing timbre. "You make me a better person just by being with you, thinking of you, and talking to you. And... I – I want to be good enough for you... someone really deserving of your affection." 

Acting on its own, her hand reached out to mimic his touch, and in turn he lightly pulled her into his embrace, Mitsui's hand gently pressing her head against him as he let out a calm, relaxed sigh. Reiko didn't understand why falling into him felt so right, like an instinct that could never be wronged by logic. 

"I want to earn the right to be with you... I want to become a better person for you, and I know I can be, because you're with me. You take me to heights I never thought I could reach, and even though your talent and intellect place you on a high pedestal, I know my love can give me wings to reach you." Tightening his embrace, his lips brushed against her earlobe as he whispered against her ear. "Thank you so much for enriching me, Reiko-san. I love you."

Upon hearing these words, something in Reiko snapped and a torrent of emotions and realizations washed over her and leaked out from her tightly shut eyes. This affirmation paralleled her sentiments of him, and though she had wanted to utter the words he wanted most to hear, her voice could not be coaxed out of her throat and all she could do was reply with moist silence. Knowing he would misinterpret, she pushed off slightly against him with her head bowed, and Mitsui was afraid that he might have taken a stance a tad too aggressive. 

Her head still bowed, the shooting guard noticed drops of liquid splatter onto the pavement and he feared the worst. // _Way to go, Romeo..._ // Reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief, he slowly lifted Reiko's head by her chin and wiped the tracks of tears away. 

"I apologize, Reiko-san. I'm a bit too intense sometimes," he whispered, chancing to look into her unchanged cerulean gaze that rendered him speechless as he lowered the hand that held the cloth. She shook her head.

"No, no, Mitsui-san. Please do not misunderstand... I... You... You must have read my thoughts when you said those words."

Relieved, he looked at her expectantly, as if to make sure. "You're not disappointed?"

"Not at all. I'm overjoyed, as a matter of fact."

He cracked a smile. "Really?"

"Really. Although..." her voice trailed off as she studied and put to memory the happiness on her stretch partner's face, every crinkle and soft smiling curve of his face's chiseled lines. "You need not earn the right to be with me." Her hand found his calloused one that grasped the handkerchief and kept it in her gentle clutch. "Not now." Bringing his hand to her lips, she kissed it before letting go. "Not ever." 

Hearing footsteps from the front walkway of the Miyagis' house, they turned to see Akagi and Nanami walking towards them. Turning quickly back to a dazed Mitsui, she looked down momentarily and smiled demurely. 

"I have left much unsaid, Mitsui-san," she said quietly, "but for now, I want you to know... that you have filled a void within in me that no one else could fill." Reiko brought an index finger to the corner of her eye and tapped by it to bring his attention to an unspoken message. She moved her entire hand just inches off her entire face as if to wipe something off from it. Wearing a smile, she turned to receive her teammate and Akagi's company, leaving Mitsui to decipher the silent communiqué.

The party stretched into the wee hours of the morning, and by three a.m., the still sober guests thanked the Miyagis and took their leave, while the inebriated revelers found either a spot on the sofa or a bed to sleep on, among them Kazuma and Keiichi. The ladies of the volleyball team surprisingly held their alcohol well, and after a sobriety check, the Miyagis bid them goodnight as they saw them off the front door. Rukawa tailed Akagi and Nanami through the door, thanking the point guard's parents for having them over. Ryota and Ayako came into the living room with several blankets which they draped over the snoozing guests, and Mitsui lent them a hand. 

"Thank you for coming to the party and for the Dom, Dr. Nakamichi, Reiko-chan," said Mr. Miyagi in a hushed voice. 

"Thank you for having us, Miyagi-san. You have an incredibly talented son. I have a feeling many pro coaches out there have their eye on him."

The Miyagis chuckled quietly as their son, Mitsui and Ayako joined them by the front door. Noticing the tired look on Ayako's face, Mrs. Miyagi gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Ayako-chan, it's too late for you to go home at this time. Just stay the night, I'll call your parents, okay?"

In tired acquiescence, Ayako nodded. She was always welcomed in the Miyagi household, and her parents have become good and trusting friends of the Miyagis. She always thought it was because the Miyagis had no daughter of their own.

"I'll be leaving as well, Miyagi-san. Thank you for giving us this party," whispered Mitsui with a bow. And with that, he followed the Nakamichis out the door and turned back to wave goodbye.

****************************************************************************************

Finally putting the pen down on the desk, Jackson leaned back in his seat, stretched out his arms and rubbed his tired eyes. He had not planned anything this extensive before nor did he think of ever having to, but debate after mental debate, it all boiled down to a simple fact that forced him to drive all thought to motion: this was his job. Not his years of service, not his emotional attachments to the Nakamichi family could sway him from this plain but harsh reality, and Jackson knew no other way around Dr. Nakamichi's orders. Had he been in charge, he would have thought of another alternative. Sadly, he was only the executioner of the job. He smirked sardonically. Executing this job was going to kill him. Literally.

Deciding not to rouse his mother with any movement that could make the stairs creak, he took what little rest he could get on the couch, laying his head on a chenille pillow. Eyes still wide open, he took another pillow and hugged it close to his broad chest, his head sinking lightly into a more comfortable position. He knew sleep would not come so quickly despite the debilitating fatigue in his body, and he wished for the Sandman to bring him slumber. And, if God would be forgiving enough, he prayed that he be reunited with his fair and lovely Midori, even if only in dreams. 

****************************************************************************************

Mitsui finally got home and crashed on his bed with a sigh of relief. His whole day was filled with pleasant surprises that he still had a hard time believing they really happened. The championship. His new car. Reiko showing up to the party. Their warm exchange. The gentle kiss that she planted on his hand that he swore he'd never wash again. // _Well, maybe not 'never'..._ // He turned on his back and blinked a few times at the ceiling fan. He couldn't stop smiling. // _I love her, I love her, I love her! // The litany repeated over and over in his mind as exhilaration rode on the waves of adrenaline surging in his veins. _

He knew he wasn't going to get much sleep.

****************************************************************************************

Meeting at the Kyoto summer house that morning, Mrs. Fuji made breakfast for her son and the other guards that made them cheer with delight as she made them homemade blueberry waffles which they have silently yearned for ever since their move to Kanagawa. Fuji had four other brothers and sisters, all of them younger than him. The breakfast table was rather animated with lively conversation, verging on chaos even, as Fuji's siblings kept telling the other guards stories that blackmailed Fuji into promising them to a trip to the mall for Christmas shopping. Fuji's mother just laughed and took control of the situation, telling all the kids that she will be the one to take them shopping. When all of breakfast was consumed, Mrs. Fuji served the men some coffee before carting the kids off to the mall. Not until they closed the front door behind them did the talk around the table turn serious. Jackson took a long, deep breath. 'Well, here it goes.'

"All right, men... Dr. Nakamichi made a request for a hit."

The younger guards stopped their mugs midway to their mouths and looked at each other. 

"When?" asked Miller, finally completing a sip.

"I haven't been told of the exact day, but I have a feeling it'll be before New Year's."

Fuji smirked. "Wow, what a way to start the year... So, who's the unlucky guy?"

Sakai threw Jackson a quick glance and Jackson caught his anxious stare. He cleared his throat.

"It's not a guy."

Miller's eyes widened, and he let a pause of silence pass before speaking. "Since when did Dr. Nakamichi have a grudge against a woman?"

This was getting a little difficult. "He doesn't have a grudge on anybody except the head of R&D of Lexicon Labs."

"So is the head of R&D a woman?" asked Fuji as he leaned his elbows forward.

Jackson shook his head with unease. "Not exactly..."

Sakai decided to try and help him out. "She used to work for Lexicon Labs, guys."

"All right," Miller spat out as he fell backwards in his seat. "Just tell us already."

Jackson looked down at his half-empty coffee mug and tried to recollect himself. Sakai was just as ill at ease. Getting up from his seat slowly, Jackson took his mug with him as he stepped towards the window beside the kitchen table, his back facing the others. With one bitter gulp, Jackson spilled the news.

"Our target is Nakamichi-dono."

The look of incredulity on the younger guards' faces clearly took hold of their tongues as well, and they were beginning to doubt their sense of hearing. Fuji tried to take the conversation to a more humorous path.

"Jackson, wait..." He took his little finger to his ear and began to rub against it. "Could you repeat that again? 'Cause I don't think I heard you right."

The bulky guard turned around, his face as stoic as when he got up from his seat seconds before. "You heard me right."

Miller shook his head briskly. "Stop this bullshit right now, Jackson. She can't possibly be the target."

Jackson's irritation was adding to the vexing weight of the problem. "Did you hear me stutter? You heard what I said."

After a few tense, silent seconds, Sakai spoke. "Okay, let's just all calm down a bit. Jackson, please take your seat. Apparently they haven't been told of this before."

          Jackson sat back down, his exasperation slowly diffusing with a quiet sigh. Taking a look at his junior colleagues, he set his mug down and brought his fingers to rub against his furrowed brow.

"As you both know, Dr. Nakamichi spent many years of research to restore Nakamichi-dono's health back to normal, or something close to normal at the most... That math professor's stunt really spooked him, and he's afraid that his niece is already attracting too much attention under all this athletic spotlight she's in." A frown flitted across his face and passed in a blink of an eye. "That bastard Kawamura used to be one of Lexicon Lab's minions, and he probably still is. Putting him behind bars is not enough to restrain Dr. Nakamichi's insecurity of his niece's safety."

"So he wants us to kill her?" Miller's voice croaked. "God, tell me I'm wrong, Jackson."

"You're both." 

Before any of the younger men could reply, Jackson took out the piece of paper he had scribbled on the night before and laid it out on the table. 

"Dr. Nakamichi wants us to snuff the name she holds and make it a mere memory in everyone's mind, particularly those at Lexicon Labs. In other words, our job is to take her out of the spotlight."

Holding their questions to hear of more explanations, they eyed the scribbled diagram on the sheet of paper before them. After a long, pensive pause, Fuji calmly spoke out.

"So... all the new friends she's made... that smile on her face and that deep blue hue in her eyes... her first real taste of life... we're going to snuff that out, too, right?"

No one was able to answer.  
  


"Are you guys okay with this?"

Silence.

"Doesn't Dr. Nakamichi know that he will really kill what makes her so alive when we take her away from the one person who made it all happen? "

Miller looked somberly at Fuji. 

"And what about Mitsui-san?" 

Fuji got tired of waiting for answers. "You guys know as well as I do that she has never been this happy before since her family died. I don't know what that doctor is thinking, but we have got to be out of our fucking minds if we uproot her from this place. This isn't how you treat someone who has suffered and put all her wishes aside for somebody else's peace of mind. What the hell have we been hired for if we're going to kill what remains of her spirit after all the trouble we've been through protecting her? Why did we even protect her in the first place? To allow her to become a shell of a person after we rip out the very life from her? I don't know about you guys, but I have a big problem with that. And where the hell is she going to go? Back to America? To Europe? And for what fucking purpose? To go back to square one? This shit is just unfuckingbelievable…"

Sakai tried to calm the younger guard down. "Fuji, I'm sure there's more to this than we've been told."

"Oh no, I'm tired of this shit. I'm tired of seeing Nakamichi-dono unhappy. I mean, you and I have our losses, but for crying out loud, she has nobody left but that insecure bundle of nerves she calls her uncle! Let's not take her happiness away from her!"

"We have to do our job," retorted Sakai.

"Enough!" yelled Jackson as he pounded his fist on the table. With all the guards silenced, he looked back at the diagram and closed his eyes. "Listen… I've done a lot of thinking… and I have a gut feeling that Dr. Nakamichi will go for it. So, if you could do so without any further interruptions, just hear me out for a minute."

They all looked at each other and put their objections on hold, allowing the hulking guard to calmly voice a different design in Dr. Nakamichi's plans.

****************************************************************************************

She rose from her bed and sat on its edge for a moment, blinking away the events of last night that replayed in her dreams. Reiko smiled. She looked forward to each and every day that time brought her. Taking a quick shower, she dressed herself and went downstairs to hear a whining bark in the laundry room. Opening the door, she was greeted with a wag of the tail and a relieved whimper. 

"Good morning, boy. You've been very brave. Let's go outside."

She made sure the excited animal followed her from the laundry room to the back door and into the backyard. Running around the lawn, Reiko giggled as she tried to keep her warmth by hugging herself, the dog frolicking and scampering around before doing its bathroom business. By the time she and the dog returned inside, her uncle was making breakfast. Picking the puppy up, she gave it a hug and brought it to her uncle's ear for a wet one. 

"Hey now! Good morning, little ones," he greeted, patting the furry animal on its head and kissing Reiko on the forehead. 

"Good morning, Uncle Tak. Did you sleep well last night?"

He laughed. 

"Like a rock. And you?"

"Like a baby." 

Dr. Nakamichi grinned as he placed the eggs over easy onto the plates on the counter. "How 'bout some breakfast, Uncle Tak style?"

"Sounds good."

They all ate breakfast, including the dog with its bowl of food just beside the dinner table. After a few moments of dining silence, the doctor spoke. 

"Hey, you never did tell me what you wanted for Christmas."

Taking a sip of her orange juice, she smiled and laughed. "You already gave it to me. I asked for a hug, and you already gave it to me."

Dr. Nakamichi frowned. "Come on, Rei. That's too simple. I mean it. Is there anything you want?"

Drawing her gaze to the empty seat in front of her, she thought for a moment and grinned. "No, Uncle Tak. Not at all." She looked down at her puppy who was busy chowing down on dog food. "I have good men who take care of me, a funny uncle who's always there for me," she said, patting his uncle's wrist, "and genuine friends who make me happy." Bringing her gaze to her breakfast plate, she smiled softly. "This must be what it's like, Uncle Tak."

He looked at her as he chewed on his toast. "This is what?"

"This is what a normal life is."

The doctor paused chewing for a second before looking down and reaching for his glass of orange juice. He swallowed a big gulp bitterly as he thought of what he instructed Jackson and the other men to do. 

"I suppose, Rei.... but...."

It took a few seconds for her to look back at her uncle whose words were hanging on a silent thought. "But?"

"But... Perhaps I can do better than that."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Nakamichi put his fork down and gathered his thoughts carefully before speaking. 

"I know it hasn't been easy for you, Rei. And I know I haven't been the greatest relative in the world."

Her brow furrowed. "That's not true – " She was silenced with his index finger commanding pause. 

"I just want to tell you that I really want to give the word 'normal' a fuller, richer meaning for you." The doctor took a deep breath and continued. "You know, the first time Lexicon Labs tried to kill you, I thought I was going to have to go through hell all over again and stay there. I don't know what you went through, and your loss to me is a deeper, unimaginable pit of despair. I'm so sorry I couldn't do better to comfort you. I thought that maybe if I just let you deal with it on your own time and your own pace, that maybe you would find some sort of reason to go on. And somehow you did, and I was glad... but I felt like it wasn't enough, and I felt like what you have to go through every year in that immersion chamber is too much for you to bear, little less for us to witness. That's why... that's why I want to try again. I want to find another way, another process to reap the toxins out of you... I know I can do it."

Reiko yielded to the weight of her uncle's hopeful stare. 

"I know you said that it's okay the way it is now... but after what's happened to you, that professor's attempt to take you away, the agonizing pain radiating through you in the immersion chamber.... I find it unacceptable as a doctor to let you suffer like this. I should've done it before, but I suppose people don't know what needs to be done until it's too late... so... if you'd let me be selfish this one last time, Rei, I would like to give you a better, normal life. I'd like to find another way."

The confusion on her face was obvious, and he knew he had to let the significance of his words fall gently into place.

"I'm going to need samples of your blood for analysis... we don't have to draw it every day... just once a week at the most. I dreamt about it last night, and this time, I know the reaction time will be much faster and the immersion method won't be so painful. But I need to test this theory, and I know I'll get the results we need."

Reiko sank back in her seat, her mind trying to piece together the information her uncle had thrown at her. 

Pause.

Acquiescence.

"What must I do?"

Dr. Nakamichi clenched his jaw and let out a heavy sigh. "Well, --"

The phone surprised them both with its loud, abrupt ringing, prompting Reiko to excuse herself from the table to answer the phone. Across the flat panel screen in the foyer, the caller's name and number flashed in luminescent figures. 

_'Akagi Takenori 678-5423'._

"Hello, Akagi-san."

"Reiko-chan? It's Nanami."

Surprised at the unexpected voice on the other line, she happily replied. "Good morning, Nanami-san. How are you today?"

"Just peachy, thanks. Hey, you're not busy today, are you?"

Recalling her uncle's words put on hold, she paused to think. "I know I won't be this afternoon."

"Awesome! Do you think you can go shopping with me today?" she pleaded, and after a brief moment of silence, she whispered, "I need your help with finding something for a guy."

"I'd be glad to help you," Reiko replied. "Who is it for?"

Nanami laughed. "It's a long story. I'll tell you more about it later. Right now, I'm just bumming off this call from Akagi-kun's cell, I forgot my phone at home. I'm here at the bakery by school, and he just happened to show up." Another pause. "Could you call me on my cell as soon as you're free? I'll be home to pick up the phone then."

"I'll do that."

"Thanks, Reiko-chan. You're the best! See you later."

A wave of contentment formed a smile on her face as she replaced the phone receiver on its base, and as she turned around, she was a little startled to find her uncle standing a few feet away from her, the puppy sitting by his feet.

"Sorry for the interruption, Uncle Tak. That was my friend, Nanami-san."

"The setter on your team?"

She smiled. "Yes. She asked me if I would help her find a present for someone." Reiko called to the puppy and it approached her happily, its stubby tail shaking with glee. "You were saying earlier, Uncle Tak?"

Dr. Nakamichi wore a weak smile across his lips as he watched the puppy lick her fingers. 

"I think I've told you of my ideas. I just need to know if you're okay with it."

"Will every one be happy with the outcome, Uncle Tak?"

Her question jolted him with awe and guilt, the innocence in her voice carrying an ironic foreshadowing only he understood. He chose his words carefully.

"I know I will be, and I'm hoping you will be, too."

Pressing her nose briefly against the Corgi's, she looked up at her uncle and smiled. 

"If it makes you happy, then that is all that matters." Reiko let the puppy down and it scrambled about, scampering happily and barking at her to follow. "You've kept me alive this long, Uncle Tak. I know all of your intentions are good. I owe you my life." Beaming him a childish grin, she planted a kiss on the doctor's cheek and followed the dog to the kitchen. 

Remaining where he stood, Dr. Nakamichi cursed himself for his selfishness. Looking at the flat screen on the wall, he was reminded of the work he needed to do today. Before he could walk to the stairs leading to the basement, he heard the grandfather clock's drowsy chimes sound through the hall. Glancing at the clock, he smiled wryly at the time and descended down the stairs. He wondered if she would understand his intentions, his situation, his hopes. 

He wondered if she could forgive him.

Taking his vibrating cell phone from his pocket, he briefly looked at the caller's name and answered the phone.

****************************************************************************************

Reiko was in the yard playing fetch with the puppy, rewarding it with bits of dog food for retrieving its toy. The sight of her bodyguards walking towards her was a surprise; she didn't expect to see them till after Christmas was over. 

"Good morning, Nakamichi-dono," they greeted in unison with a bow.

She ran to them with a smile. "Hello, everyone. I thought you would be staying at the summer houses a day longer."

The men looked at each other warily, thinking of unsuspicious replies. 

"Well," broke Fuji with a grin, "Mom went shopping with all their mothers, and it's no fun for a guy shopping with his Mom. I don't want anybody taking me for a Mama's boy."

Sakai and Jackson smiled in approval. Miller laughed and shook his head. 

"What are you talking about? You ARE a mama's boy!"  
  


"What?!" retorted Fuji as he watched Miller make a face at him before dashing off to find refuge behind Reiko's back. Wide-eyed at his choice of body armor, she laughed as Miller shielded himself with her as he made faces that only aggravated Fuji more. While they chased each other across the yard, Jackson spoke.

"Speaking of shopping, Nakamichi-dono, do you need to do anymore shopping? It's the last day of Christmas shopping."

_So that's why they're here, Reiko thought. "Actually, Nanami-san asked me if I would help her look for a present for someone. I would like to go, if it's okay."_

"When would you like to go?" asked Sakai, glancing at his watch. 

"Can we leave now?"

She was answered with an eager nod. 

"Oh, then I'll give her a call right away. Please excuse me."

Reiko turned to go inside the house, her gaze averting momentarily to the two bickering guards hurling taunts at each other as they ran across the yard, the puppy running with them. As soon as the door closed behind her, Jackson called the younger two to them.

"Nakamichi-dono wants to go shopping. Two of us can stay here and work on the module. Who wants to go with her?" asked Jackson. 

Looking at each other for a moment, Fuji shrugged. "I'll go if you guys are going to work on the wiring. But if you want the casing done first, I'll stay."

Sakai scratched his head. "I need Miller to help me with the conversions, and I can use your help later with the modifications."

"Okay, so you guys stay here then. Fuji and I will take her," settled Jackson. "Try to keep things out of sight. Nakamichi-dono may be innocent, but she's not blind. I'll let you know when we're coming home so you can shut down shop. Dr. Nakamichi said he'll be busy in the basement, and he might need your help installing some measuring devices to the immersion chamber later." Pausing to look over their shoulders, he kept his voice low. "Here she comes. We'll take the Benz this time. Do your best."

They broke off into pairs, the two to remain wishing her fun on her errand with a promise to watch over her puppy, and the other two escorting her to the car. 

"I hope you don't mind riding in this today," said Fuji as he opened the car door for her.

She beamed at him. "No, not at all. Uncle Tak took me to Miyagi-san's party last night with it."

Piqued, Jackson's timbre lightened. "Really? That's good."

Reiko recounted the previous night's events to both guards with polite eagerness, both guards grinning at the way her tone changed slightly whenever she spoke of her stretch partner, Fuji catching a few glimpses of vibrant azure in Reiko's unusually animated eyes from the rear view mirror.

****************************************************************************************

Christmas morning and Tak Nakamichi woke up with a slobbery greeting from a very happy puppy, its master grinning widely by the side of the bed. 

"Merry Christmas, Uncle Tak," she voiced softly, her hand producing a gift-wrapped box from her back. 

Rubbing his eyes, the doctor blinked at few times at her and then at the dog. He laughed. 

"Wah, this is like being ten all over again! Rei, you didn't have to," he said, taking the gift from her hand. Then, whispering like a curious boy, "What's in it?"

Reiko giggled and sat on the edge of the bed. "Let's open it and see," she whispered back.

Taking the bow and wrapping off the box, he uncovered it to find another box of felt. Opening the box, he felt his chest go warm at the sight of the necklace in it. It was a simple, herring bone necklace of platinum with a pendant, similar to hers. He knew that his brother long ago had given one to his wife and children, a small token that served as a sign of belonging to this small familial circle. And now, he was given one. He nearly choked guiltily at the gift; he didn't think he was worthy of it.

"Rei,… I don't know what to say."

A smile.

"Say you'll wear it."

Hesitation.

"Rei, I need to tell you something."

The doorbell.

She turned her head to the door, quickly returning her gaze to her uncle. "Yes?"

"I… I just want you to know that all I want is what's best for you… the very best I can give you."

She tilted her head in inquiry. "I know, Uncle Tak."

"You may know it now, but later on I will need for you to understand it. Promise me you'll try?"

A nod. 

She took the necklace, placed it around his neck and secured its clasp. Looking at her uncle, she grinned. "You look very trendy with this necklace, Uncle Tak."

He played along and winked. "Let's hope it'll get some woman's attention." He waited for her giggle to fade before looking at the clock. Nine in the morning. "Are you expecting somebody?"

Reiko shook her head. 

"I bet I know who that is."

The puppy barked, jumped and circled around the bedroom floor. 

"Okay, boy, let's go see who it is."

Descending the stairs, she and her furry companion walked to the door and opened it, revealing a crimson-cheeked Mitsui, hands behind his back. It was a pleasant surprise.

"Good morning, Mitsui-san," she greeted, her puppy barking with her in unison.

"Merry Christmas, Reiko-san," he replied, giving her the bouquet of roses he hid behind his back. 

Her face lit as she received the floral gift, her azure eyes waxing bright with delight as Mitsui heart melted at the sight. 

"Thank you very much, Mitsui-san, you are very thoughtful." 

She ushered him out of the cold and into the house, leading him into the living room. Offering him something to eat, he politely refused and she told him to wait for a moment. Disappearing into the next room, she returned with a grin of mischief on her delicate face and something hidden in her hands behind her back. 

"Uh-oh," he voiced, giving her a mock look of wary. 

Laughing, she wished him merry Christmas and gave him her present. He smiled and took the wrapping off, his eyes becoming wide circles of surprise as he held up a basketball jersey. It was the same Lakers jersey he saw Reiko touching that time they went to his friend's sporting goods shop, and as he flipped the jersey over, he was absolutely bowled over. The last name on it was Bryant, and below the number was a felt pen scribbling. 

_'Mitsui – congrats! Kobe'_

"No way…"

She smiled at the comment as she felt her puppy paw for her attention to bring it to her lap. "Do you like it?"

"How… is this… did he really sign it?"

She nodded. "My family's company is a corporate sponsor for Mr. Bryant's father's basketball team in Italy. He was able to have his son sign it."

"My God, you know Kobe Bryant's dad?!"

She angled her head in thought. "Not really… I've only met him once."

Mitsui didn't know if he should be more surprised at the fact that he has a signed jersey from Kobe Bryant or at the fact that she knew such famous people. He inwardly sighed. // Then again, the rich probably mingle with the famous… // He set his gift aside. // Man, this gift blows mine out of the water. //

"Um, Reiko-san, I'm afraid my Christmas gift isn't as awesome as yours. I'm debating whether or not to give it to you, you'd probably say it's lame."

She laughed and let the dog sit between them. "I wouldn't say that, Mitsui-san."

"Well, not to my face, at least," he said, catching the surprised look on her face. "I'm just kidding." After an awkward pause, he dug in his jacket pocket and handed Reiko a small box. 

"What's this?"

"Your present."

"But the flowers—" 

"Were just a greeting." He let his hand pet the puppy's head. "I… I had a hard time… trying to think of something to give you. I mean, what do you give a girl who's got everything, right?" he stammered. Reiko's observant gaze found the boyish uneasiness he carried funny. "So… I… well, please open it. I just hope you'll like it."

Without a word, she smiled and unraveled the ribbon on the little box's top. Holding his breath, Mitsui didn't know if his heart could stand to beat that fast as she took the lid off, her pleased smile allowing his lungs to find the air once again. 

She held it up and placed it in her palm, her smile betraying eager curiosity.

"When I was a kid, I played at the neighborhood's basketball court a lot. I was in middle school then, and right before my very first game, the sparkle of that thing caught my eye on the ground. It's been my good luck charm every since, and you're the only person who knows about this…" he petered away as he stole a glance at Reiko's face. "Back then, it might have been just a bracelet and a foolish notion that it would bring me luck… but… throughout the years, it has changed into something more than that. It became something that resembled all my dreams and good intentions. For a long time, I thought it was odd… it was like I was meant to find this on the dusty ground, the one beautiful and precious thing my young eyes had seen then in the midst of dullness."

Smiling at the content dog, then at her, he continued. "Just like how I found you… and… um… I know it's really simple, but when it comes to something valuable to me, it ranks up there." 

Reiko met his fervent gaze for a moment before taking the bracelet and clasping it around her wrist. She bowed her head at her stretch partner.

"Mitsui-san, thank you for this precious gift."

"Are you sure you like it?"

"Very much so." Taking another look at the gift, she frowned a little. "But, are you sure you want to give me this bracelet of luck?"

Mitsui leaned his back into the couch and straightened out his long legs. "I'd like to think that giving it to you will multiply my luck."

"How so?"

He held back a snicker. "Well, all my teammates back in high school always had some funny superstitions about luck, like how Miyagi pumps himself up before a game by listening to Van Halen songs full blast on his headphones. Then he says that his luck gets doubled if Ayako-chan gives him a kiss and a hug."

Reiko's brows rose in amusement, a giggle suppressed in her throat.

"Then there's Akagi with his one red shoelace on his right shoe. I don't know how that happened, but he told me that he scores a lot more points if he wears a rubber band on his left wrist during games."

She let her giggle out. "I never noticed that about Akagi-san," she said, her puppy's tongue sticking out with a pant as she spoke.

"Me neither, but he's surprisingly sold on the luck multiplier thing. And whatever you do, don't ask him to show you what it is for exams."

Reiko arched a mischievous brow. "My guess is you know?"

He cringed at the thought. "Well, yeah, because he showed me without my permission, that ape…"

"What was it?"

Shutting his eyes as if to block the memory, his voice grew flat. "Green boxer shorts."

Laughter broke out and filled the living room, making her pet bark at them. Contented with the reaction despite the mini-horror show that played in his mind just a moment ago starring Akagi, he grunted. "That dumb nut nearly made me blind, pulling down his pants like he did in the locker room that time." Reiko laughed even more, clutching her abdomen and falling into her seat. 

On a warmer note, his tone deepened. "Knowing this now, you can probably guess what my real lucky charm is."

Wiping the corner of her eye, she blinked twice before looking his way, her face ingenuous and inquiring. Before she could put her question to voice, Mitsui's hand reached to caress the soft line of her jaw and cheek. 

"I'm looking at my luck. But… you are that and much, much more to me." He circled his brawny arms around her, the hue in her eyes a lucid cerulean as he tightened the embrace. "You lift me up with your smile, excite me with your laughter, and move me with your eyes. You're life itself."

For a long moment, she felt his heart beat strong and steady against her chest, his warmth against her skin sent her senses to a higher height of sensitivity. She permitted herself to be held by the strength of his arms. 

A whisper.

"I love you, Reiko." 

****************************************************************************************

Spying the loving gesture from the hallway, Dr. Nakamichi silently stepped away and headed for the basement, his heart heavy and his stomach in knots. Not until he reached the room where the immersion chamber stood did he let out a suppressed cough.

He had to hurry.

****************************************************************************************

A call from Coach Sato about the end-of-season banquet had Reiko standing in her sister's large closet, browsing through racks of evening dresses that befitted the occasion. It had been a few days since the volleyball finals, and she felt like things had settled down some. Taking a black dress off the rack, she put it against her frame and looked at the full-length mirror on the wall. Just behind her sat her quiet and curious puppy, the rustle and swish of fabrics making its ears perk up with each sound. Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes at the mirror.

"What do you think, boy?"

The dog looked at her expectantly.

"I don't think so, either," she said, grinning at the animal as she returned the dress on the rack. 

As she looked through more of her sister's dresses, she paused to wonder where her uncle was. He had decided all of a sudden to become a hermit and inhabit the basement, playing with his ideas and machinations. She wasn't comfortable with her uncle's chary tone lately, as if he was talking to someone who might break. And was it her imagination that the guards were expediently accommodating? Then again, they were always like that. She was jolted out of pensiveness with a knock on the bedroom door. 

"Rei? You in here?"

The puppy ran out to greet her uncle. 

"Yes, Uncle Tak. I'm in the closet." Peeking from the closet, she grinned at him and walked to where he sat on the bed. Her brow furrowed a little at the tired, almost glassy look of her uncle's eyes. "Are you all right?"

He blinked. "Yeah,… I'm okay, I'm just a little tired. Listen, I was wondering if you could help me test my modifications downstairs."

"Of course. What do I need to do?"

The doctor pursed his lips into a small grimace. "I need to draw a sample of blood from you. Will you mind?"

She happily shook her head. "Not at all. Shall we go?"

The furry animal trailed behind them as they descended to the basement. Once there, Dr. Nakamichi readied his tools and had Reiko sit on a bar stool by the controls. A few seconds and ten milliliters of blood later, both of them stood by and watched as he emptied the sample in a tan sac submerged in water in glass casing. Reiko assumed that this must be the reason why her uncle was tired: he had completely revamped the wiring and changed the mixture of ion substrates, evidenced by the pliers, little pieces of cut wire, and a measuring cup used to dump the substrate powder in. Her uncle let out a nervous laugh.

"Well, I guess we're going to find out if my three days of work will pay off," he said, manning the control panel. 

Reiko gave him a look of disbelief. "You mean to tell me that this is what you have been doing for three days straight?"

The smile and wink he gave her did not match the tired visage he wore. "Here it goes."

Pressing several keys on the board, he slid a bar and turned a dial that made the needles on the control panel gradually move from resting point to the right, their eyes fixed on the suspended sac housing the sample. As Dr. Nakamichi increased the current, numbers appeared on the laptop next to the panel and moved as one would see on a slot machine, changing rapidly and increasing in amount. Reiko noticed the water in the casing take on a rosy color. 

"Oh my God…" the doctor muttered, his eyes shifting from the rapid movement of numbers on the laptop screen to the tan sac and back. 

"What is it?" Reiko whispered, inching closer to her uncle as she watched the fatigue on his face get replaced with a look of incredulity and delight. 

"I can't believe it… I did it, Rei. I did it!" his voice exclaimed as he turned to his niece, picked her up and embracing her in excitement. Not knowing the reason for his sudden elation, she held him back in confusion.

"What are we celebrating for?" she asked, her childlike tone only making him laugh as he let her go. 

"I tweaked the specs for the immersion chamber so that it can leach the maximum amount of toxins out of your blood with the minimum number of side effects. You won't have to be so tired after a treatment." And no more nightmares, he silently added.

Hope filled her with the revelation. "Really?"

He nodded. "But, these numbers I produced are just experimental. We need you to experience the modifications yourself to really find out, although I know this time it's going to be better since I worked from the results we've gotten in the past."

She beamed at him. "When can we test it?"

His brows rose and laughter bubbled out of his throat. "I've never seen you this eager about being in the immersion chamber." He returned to the control panel and turned the current off. "We can do it later." 

         Then, vacillation. 

         "Rei, I don't know how to tell you this, but the real reason –"

A call on his cell phone held his words in his mouth. 

Groan.

"The men were wondering what time the banquet will be."

"At eight." 

"Jackson, it's at eight."

A pause. 

"Yes… Feel free to use the other cars… I hope everything is in place… Good luck."

Reluctantly putting his phone back on its belt clip, Reiko noticed the nervous look he gave her. "Rei, about tonight… how do I say this…" The doctor's voice faltered at the sound of the puppy whimpering. Both threw their gaze at the dog limping towards them. She let out a gasp. 

"Boy, what's the matter?" Reiko rushed to pick the animal up and inspected its limping limb. A wire protruded from the pink pad of its paw, piercing its skin and trickling blood all over. "Oh no!" She looked down at the ground and sourly remembered the bits and pieces of split wires, chiding herself for not thinking of them as a hazard. 

"It's okay, Rei. Give him to me," Dr. Nakamichi said as he reached for some gauze in his phlebotomy kit. 

She guiltily pet the dog's head. "I'm sorry, boy. I forgot all about the wires."

Moments of silence passed and the doctor cleaned the patch of blood that accumulated on the animal's furry paw. Reiko swept the pieces of wires to the base of the control panel with her slipper, and she was relieved when her uncle finally let the puppy down without any cries of pain. 

"Thanks, Uncle Tak." She looked at her watch. "You were just about to tell me something earlier."

"Yes, I was… but… hey, don't you have to get ready for the banquet?"

Reiko smiled at the reminder. "You're right, I haven't picked out a dress yet. Will you be coming?" 

Not expecting that question from her, he hesitated to answer. "I thought it was a strictly players-only thing."

She shook her head. "I would be honored if you joined me."

Resignation. 

"Well, I guess I'll have to get a tux, then. I'm done here, anyway. You go on ahead, I'll clean up down here."

As he heard her ascend the stairs with her dog, Dr. Nakamichi reached for his phone.

****************************************************************************************

"Where can I get a tux?... I'm so pathetic, Jackson. I couldn't even tell her… I'm afraid… that it's going to be even harder if I tell her myself, tonight of all nights… and Jackson… there's something else I need to say… to her more than to you…"

****************************************************************************************

The garage and driveway was full of activity as Fuji and Miller each carried a small box which they loaded into the trunk of the Suburban. Sakai had just finished shoving a few things into a toolbox and Jackson clapped his hands free of dust from putting up a rubber hose up on a shelf. All of them grouped in front of the black vehicle and checked waited for Jackson to speak.

"Well men, everything seems to be in place. Have you made arrangements with your families?"

         All nodded, emitting a grunt of approval from the burly guard.

"Good. It seems that we have a little change of plans. Dr. Nakamichi will be at the banquet as well, so we're going to have to double our supplies. Fuji and Miller, please pick up the tux and stop by the hospital. Sakai and I will make sure the bindings are in place. And gentlemen," he added with a sudden grin, "try to enjoy this last gathering tonight."

The rest of the guards were pensively silent for a moment before nodding their heads with a small grin.

As they waited for Reiko to emerge from back door of the estate, Jackson eyed his tuxedo-clad colleagues. He attempted to lighten the mood. 

"You men sure can clean up. You don't look bad at all."

The men snickered at his comment. "You don't look bad yourself, Jackson," replied Fuji, his rascally gaze warning the burly guard of a comeback. "You better watch out for preying muscled Marys, 'cause you're practically the belle of the ball."

For the first time in weeks, Jackson and the others laughed till their sides hurt.

****************************************************************************************

Mitsui anxiously waited by the banquet hall's entrance of the Grand Maple Hotel, pacing to and fro as his eyes glanced up from the ground to the wide revolving doors. Several of his teammates had passed him by and tossed taunts at him and the stars in his eyes. They all knew who he was waiting for, and Mitsui waved them off good-naturedly as they entered the hall. Most of the basketball and volleyball players were already inside, and he could hear their laughter above Miyagi's humorous chatter. As he poked his head through the doors, he was surprised to see Nanami walking his way. He stood erect.

"Still not here?"

He silently shook his head, tugging the corners of the setter's mouth. 

"I'm sure she's on her way. Oh, the coaches promised a photo op for the media before the awards start, so don't wander too far away."

Mitsui groaned. "Man, those flashes from their cameras blind me. I wonder how models and movie stars stand it."

"Well, you'll have your answer in a few minutes," she said with a laugh as she looked back into the hall. Seeing her teammates' hands motion to her in front of several photographers setting up their tripods, she sighed. "It looks like we won't even have a minute at all."

Both athletes joined their team as they posed for the photographers, the flashes of light blinding and mesmerizing at the same time. Most of the athletes' family members were there, as well as Rukawa, Hanamichi and his Gundan. The lively conversations and laughter filled the room, and soon every one took their seats as the president of the school started the awards ceremony with a few opening words. Mitsui's eyes kept shifting to the doors as he tried to mask the exasperation he felt with feigned attention. There must be a good reason why she was late; she was always punctual to every event. After several minutes of looking out to the entrance, he smiled inwardly and reproached himself for being such a worrywart . // She's with four bodyguards and an uncle. Why wouldn't she be all right? // 

Another glance at the doors. Still no Reiko.

Involuntarily, he took a deep breath and exhaled as he shifted in his seat, his eyes reluctantly turning back to the president.

****************************************************************************************

         Walking through the revolving doors of the hotel, Jackson and Sakai flanked Reiko as they made their way to the banquet hall, their presence turning the heads of the bellhops and the concierges. In her white sleeveless gown and gloves, pendant round her swan-like neck, she appeared as a movie star in their eyes, her stylized, billowy hair artfully arranged above her head with shiny silver clips. The bodyguards had profusely apologized for making her late with her uncle's tux alteration being the reason for their tardiness. She just smiled and shook her head, reminding them that it was only a banquet and not a meeting with the president. At the time, Jackson found her reply slightly humorous and at the same time dispiriting. Somehow or another, she will have to know. It had better be now, he thought, and it had better be from him. 

           As they approached the doors of the banquet hall, Jackson slowed his hurried pace and gently reached for Reiko's exposed shoulder. 

"Nakamichi-dono, there is something of paramount importance I need to tell you," he said as she slowed down, her eyes glancing up at him and noting the grave look on his face. 

Sakai allowed himself to fall behind them as Jackson lowered his head to Reiko's ear. Their pace got slower and slower until they completely stopped in front of the banquet hall's entrance, its doors slightly ajar. Sakai's heart sank as he watched Reiko's pretty head whip up at Jackson's apologetic visage, a look of utter disbelief overwhelming her crystal grey eyes. A few more quiet words from Jackson and her head shook, first slowly, then quickly, her hand moving to her mouth as if to stifle cry, her eyes tightly shut . Her head hung hopelessly forward as her other hand formed a fist that struck Jackson's broad chest noiselessly, the impact soft and yielding. 

Inside, Sakai's heart was crying.

By the time she opened her eyes, Jackson was holding her, the words of comfort that flowed from his mouth not able to reach her. The younger guards now stood with Sakai, and with the exception of the jubilant tone of the speaker inside the banquet hall, they stood in the middle of the hallway in harrowing silence. Another moment passed and Reiko's clouded eyes watched as her four guards of many years in unison bent forward in a humble, repentant bow. They straightened up slowly, their somber eyes threatening to betray their true feelings despite the small, forced grin on their faces. Reiko felt like crumbling to the floor, her thoughts running wild at her discovery. 

The furtive glances she got from her uncle. The uncertainty in his voice. 

It all made sense now. 

"We are so sorry, Nakamichi-dono," Jackson mumbled, his eyes watery at his apology. "We just found out today. All he wants is a better future for you…and… though we are merely servants to your family, please remember that you can always count on us in your time of need. We hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive us one day." Reaching in his pocket, he handed Reiko a handkerchief, her delicately gloved hand trembling as she took it from him. 

Minutes passed by in agonizing silence, her eyes closed as tears escaped from their corners. Wiping them with the cloth in her hand, she took a deep breath. Despite the presence of her bodyguards, she felt as if she was completely alone, a stranger in a wonderland of normalcy. 

          She knew what she had to do.

Quietly opening one of the doors to the banquet hall, she discreetly slipped in behind the wait staff that lined the beverage table, her white evening gown blending in with their white coats and black bowties. Tiptoeing, she looked past their shoulders and scanned the crowded tables in search of her uncle. Tears nearly escaped her eyes when she found him sitting at the table next to Mitsui and his family, her uncle's demeanor calm and collected, a surprising contrast to what she had imagined him to be with what she knew now. Coach Miwa stepped up to the podium on the stage and proudly declared his gratitude, confidence and pride in his players. Reiko was about to turn back when she felt someone tug on her arm. Turning around, she was startled by Nanami's grinning face. 

"Reiko-chan, you are gorgeous!" she whispered, giving her teammate a wink. "I'm so glad you made it. You worried me and Mitsui-kun." Pausing for a second to look at her face, she sensed distress in her demeanor. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Looking back at the podium, she returned her gaze to the setter's furrowed brow, her lips mechanically contorting itself into a smile as she spoke. "Yes, everything is fine." Her eyes shifted from Nanami's questioning gaze to the sight of her men filing into the hall against the wall past the setter's shoulder. Steeling herself, she added, "I suppose I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

"About what?"

Reiko wished she could disappear that second. "I… I am not accustomed to wearing garments like this," she stuttered.

Nanami stifled a laugh. "Don't worry, it'll all be over very soon."

'I know,' she echoed bitterly.

"Listen, I'm going back to the table. I hope you have your acceptance speech ready when you go up there and receive the award for MVP!" she mumbled happily with a grin. 

Reiko watched her teammate turn about and return to her seat next to her Aunt Ayumi and two figures she guessed were her parents whom she would never have the pleasure of meeting. Back at the rear of the hall, her guards gave her hopeful nods that produced a silent sigh from her. Her stretch partner's name caught her attention and she turned her head to the front of the room, her eyes following his figure as he stood from his seat and approached the podium. The basketball team hurled whistled applause and shouts for a speech at the shooting guard, to which he humbly responded, "My gratitude goes to all of you who have made this possible for me… my parents… my teammates… Coach Miwa… and Nakamichi Reiko-san for everything."

His team and coach gave him a standing ovation as photographers scurried alongside of the front row of tables and took their shots, his eyes squinting a little as he tried to scan the crowd for Reiko past the flurry of blinding flashes. Unable to find her, Mitsui bowed to everyone and left the podium, his heart sinking in disappointment.

Reiko looked pensively down at the ground. How was she to tell him? She couldn't. Her hands clasped in apprehension as she quietly paced to and fro behind the white-coated waiters, her courage wavering at the task. She straightened up when she saw Jackson walk toward her. He took quiet, relaxed strides. After what happened in the past, he thought that his hardened heart would weather through this all without so much of an emotional dent. This beautiful young lady before him whose life's fragile vessel has suffered the fiercest of storms was about to be hurled into yet another spirit-breaking tempest, the one that might just ruin it for her and the ones who love her the most. His heart of steel was yielding.

          He quietly mumbled a few words to her and she reluctantly responded with a nod, her mind lost in mental confusion. At that moment, Coach Sato's voice boomed through the speakers as he spoke through the microphone, congratulating the ladies on his team for a stellar season and introducing the year's most accomplished athletes. Jackson could sense the dread in Reiko's breathing, each exhalation sounding off a quivering quality. His thick fingers briefly and carefully clutching the back of her head, Jackson leaned forward to whisper into her ear, the act catching her unawares.

"Nakamichi-dono, whatever happens, you will have your happiness returned to you. It might take some time, but I swear to you on my life, I won't let it end this way." 

Pulling away from her, he returned her doubting eyes with a hopeful nod. "Trust in me."

It took a few seconds for her to replace the look of dread on her face with a small, daunted grin. It was enough to make Jackson smile. "Your happiness is my promise to your sister. You will be taken care of." 

Rounds of applause echoed through the room as Nanami and Miki were given awards for offensive and defensive players of the year. Their thrilled voices filled the room, their teammates laughing at their ruby-cheeked faces as they gave their thanks to their teammates and coach.

Oblivious to the clapping and cheers from the crowd, guard and lady stood in eyeing silence, Reiko drawing hope from the man who once protected her beloved sister, his words somehow calming her troubled heart. Deep down inside, she wanted to believe in him.

"And now at this time, I'm sure all of you aren't holding your breath for this year's most valuable player. I played with the thought of giving it to someone else, but the fear of ten ladies beating and kicking me for such erroneous judgment isn't an idea I gladly welcome," Coach Sato said, the audience laughing at his joke. "But before I hand this award to its rightful owner, I would like to thank Mitsui Hisashi for having the gift of persuasion, because without him, I would have never had the privilege of coaching one of the most talented athletes I've ever seen, whose quiet strength and cordial disposition earned her the respect and friendship of her teammates," he said as he nodded at his team, "as well as my wife's wish to have a pretty daughter like her," he added with a wink at his blushing wife. "Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present the award for most valuable player to Nakamichi Reiko."

She froze at the sound of her name, Jackson's hand patting the back of her shoulder gently as he ushered her to the main aisle that separated the basketball and volleyball guest tables. 

Mitsui's eyes eagerly scanned for her in the crowd, first looking for her by her uncle's side, then swinging his gaze to the back of the hall. There, standing by Jackson's side, was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on, the light against Reiko's white dress casting an ethereal, angelic sheen in the beholder's eyes. He wore a smile that stretched from ear to ear as he clapped and watched her walk away from the strapping guard's side towards Coach Sato behind the podium. As she came closer, her eyes met his for a brief moment, their color astonishing the shooting guard with its pallid, ashen hue, like the shadow of liveliness passing before his sight. It didn't match the small grin she wore on her face, the very same one he saw when he first met her. She momentarily stopped to give her uncle a hug, her clutch tight and desperate. The audience got on their feet and continued the applause, the embrace a touching scene in their eyes. 

"Why… why didn't you tell me, Uncle Tak?" she said, her voice audible only to the doctor's ear as her head met his shoulder.

"Because I am a coward, Rei… With your newly found happiness, I didn't want to be the one to tear it asunder, though my circumstances leave me no choice. Please understand." Dr. Nakamichi closed his eyes shut. "Please forgive me."

She fought to control the emotions inside her. "It's all right, Uncle Tak. No need for forgiveness." She pulled away, her gloved hand lingering for a second on her uncle's shoulder. "Please excuse me now." With a forced smile, she left her uncle's side.

          Reiko was given a bow from her coach as she approached the podium. Returning the polite gesture, Reiko accepted the award from Coach Sato, her teammates cheering her name above the roaring applause. Flashes from the photographers' cameras lit the room like the ephemeral glow of fireflies, and the men of the basketball team cheered for her as well with whooping shouts. She remained still behind the podium, waiting for the applause to die down as the guests took their seats once more. 

Fingering the base of the award's crystal structure, she looked down at her name skillfully etched on its surface, her heart fluttering with nervousness. Taking another second, she cleared her throat and willed her voice not to quiver.

"Thank you very much for giving me this honor." Stealing a glance at her stretch partner grinning proudly in his seat, she momentarily shifted her gaze to her uncle. "I can hardly believe I am here tonight in front of all of you wonderful people."

"Hear, hear," a voice said in the crowd, eliciting soft laughter from the rest of the audience. Reiko clasped her hands around the crystal trophy for fear of showing the spectators her uneasiness. 

"If I may be allowed a few moments of your time, I would like to attribute this accolade to Sato-sensei."

Cheers from her teammates echoed throughout the room. 

"From the first day I practiced alone in the annex gym, you never gave up on me. I apologize for giving you a difficult time. Thank you for believing in me."

A round of applause filled the hall, making the volleyball coach blush to the roots of his thick hair. 

"This award would mean nothing if the ladies of the team were not there to support me. You all have taught me so much…" she trailed off, her grey eyes finding Nanami sitting beside her aunt. "You made me aware of things I would never have seen or experienced alone. Your friendship and loyalty means more to me than this award. I will always cherish them."

Mitsui could feel an ominous, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Reiko's eyes never lied and he could clearly tell that something was not right. The tone behind her words rang a hidden finality to them.

"The same can be said for Coach Miwa, Ayako-san and the gentlemen of the basketball team. You are some of the most congenial, nicest people I have had the pleasure of knowing. You have made each moment happy and memorable with all of you, both on and off the court."

Cheers from Coach Miwa's table resonated throughout the banquet hall. By the back wall of the hall, she spied her four guards flanking the entrance, their eyes fixed at her with a look of pity she knew so well from her childhood. Her gaze roamed back to her stretch partner, his chiseled features accentuated by the tuxedo he wore. Clinging desperately to the trophy, she looked down once more and breathed life and courage into her lungs with a long, deep breath.

"And most importantly, I would like to thank a very special person tonight… someone for whom I hold the greatest regard and esteem."

Reiko looked directly at the shooting guard, her crystal grey gaze piercing through him and weakening his spirit, Mitsui's eyes locking onto hers as she spoke.

"If it weren't for this person, I would still be living in the shell of the soporific human being I used to be, recluse and afraid to face the world. He opened my eyes to a whole new world, a world filled with joy and happiness beyond my imagination, one that I thought no longer existed for me… He took me by the hand, introduced me to you fine people, and with that he took away my loneliness. He became a pillar of strength for me, someone who lent me a hand at times when my burdens were at their most difficult to bear… someone to whom I owe all my happiest moments beyond my childhood… someone very close to my heart."

By now, every one in the crowd followed her gaze as it rested decorously on the shooting guard. Mitsui sat up in his seat and remained very still, his ears soaking in every word she uttered. At that moment, no one and nothing more existed around him; all he cared to see was his radiant angel standing behind the podium, her face smiling at him with eyes of now melancholy blue grey. Only on few occasions were her eyes that shade of blue whenever she was sad, as if imparting truthful dejection in silence. It was hauntingly mystifying. It was like an unspoken farewell.

"You have taught me the most important lesson I will ever learn in my life. However… when it came time to apply what I've learned, I was quite unprepared… The truth is, I did not know how to explain what I felt myself, and I was too afraid to recognize it… long ago, the people dearest to me perished and my heart perished with them… What you offer me unconditionally is different from what I have known in my childhood, but fundamentally the same… I recognize that now. And yet… even after you helped me mend my fragile spirit, I was reluctant… reluctant because I was selfish. Because I was afraid. I was afraid of my heart dashing into pieces once more should anything like before happen to you… I would gladly live in my gilded cage and watch you from a distance if it meant preserving your well-being."

She paused to take another long, deep breath and let it out slowly with a shudder, her gaze unwavering before Mitsui. 

"You have made such an immense impression on me. You have been so good to me. You became my sanctuary and my refuge… you saved me from hurling myself into the deepest pit of despair. Not my riches or any of my possessions could ever amount to the value of your friendship and your company… Words cannot express my gratitude. I can never thank you enough. You have filled the void within my heart with happy memories, your patience, your wonderful family and friends, and most importantly, you. You are extremely precious to me. I thank you from the depths of my heart and soul, Mitsui-san, for everything. Everything."

Reiko had to stop her hands from shaking as she gripped the trophy with all her strength, pausing to recompose herself. Seeing movement behind the silent audience, she saw Fuji slip out of the banquet hall, Miller following shortly afterwards. Looking down at her hands, she prayed for God to see her through her turmoil and finish what she came to do. 

"You all have taught and affected me in the most positive of ways. You have so much more to teach me, and I know I would have enjoyed learning much, much more."

Mitsui's breath caught. // Would have? //

"That is why it is with a heavy heart that I impart to you my decision of going back to America. My only family needs me now, and it is imperative that I go, tonight. I apologize for giving you all such abrupt notice, but leaving is the only responsible and reasonable action I can take at this time. Please excuse my impetuousness… Thank you all again so very much." Pausing to breathe, she cast an apologetic look at Mitsui. "Mitsui-san, I… I…"

Unable to say what her heart yearned to scream from the top of her lungs, she brought an index finger to the corner of her eye, gently tapping twice and tracing a path down her cheek that a tear followed from her eye. The banquet hall was dead silent, the audience looking on as the scene occurred before their cloudy eyes. Dr. Nakamichi choked back his tears as he began to cough, prompting him to fish out a handkerchief from his pocket, stand up from his seat and leave the banquet hall with Sakai, the square cloth pressed against his mouth. 

          Before she could shed any more tears, she bowed quickly before the audience. She took one last look at Mitsui who could only look back at her in utter shock. Every one was silently frozen to his and her seat, not knowing how to break the silence. Coach Sato could only gape at her as Jackson draped a coat over her and hurriedly led her to the exit. Only when she disappeared from their sight did Nanami and her teammates find their voices.

"Oh my God…"

Akagi, Miyagi and Ayako hurriedly glanced at Mitsui, immediately seeing the hurt in the shooting guard's eyes. Hanamichi felt so bad for his comrade and Haruko could feel his grip on her hand tighten in empathy. Rukawa stared at his friend helplessly.

"Mitsui!" the point guard suddenly growled. "What the hell are you still sitting there for?!"

"Get up and go after her!" snapped Akagi.

He was too shocked to respond. The world from underneath him had just crumbled and he fought to prevent himself from shuddering as he struggled to find the air. His friends' voices were muffled noises to his ears, and even as Rukawa and Hanamichi shook him violently in his seat, he couldn't bring himself to move or react. The last words she said broke him and paralyzed him to the core. 

And then, a resonant slap.

"Mitsui, wake the fuck up!" yelled the angry center, the hand that hit his teammate now closed into a fist. "Hurry up and find out what's going on and stop acting like a dazed moron!"

Akagi's words somehow made a connection in his befuddled mind. Bolting from his seat, he took off running, dashing through the doors of the banquet hall and barely missing the waiter carrying a rather large platter of shrimp, making the poor man lose his balance and drop the platter altogether. Mitsui let out a garbled apology as he whisked through the hallway and into the main lobby, his eyes looking for any trace of Reiko and her guards. Seeing the revolving doors spin, he looked outside and saw Jackson's fleeing form disappear around the corner of the building. Slinking through the doors, he tailed them behind their tracks and saw the black Suburban parked by the side of the building, its back passenger door open and ready to receive its fleeing cargo and her guard. 

"Reiko-san!" he yelled out, thankful that he could still run in his dress shoes. 

She was about to step in to the vehicle when she heard the sound of his voice, stopping her halfway into the Suburban. 

"Nakamichi-dono, we have to go," coaxed Jackson as he held open the door.

Backing away from the vehicle, she briefly clung to the brawny guard's sleeve in teary desperation. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson. I need to speak to him one last time." 

She turned around and ran towards Mitsui's direction, his running profile reminding her of the sprints he did across the basketball court, this scene forever etched into memory. 

Jackson watched the shooting guard receive Reiko's retreating form with arms open wide, locking her into a tight embrace. The guard mumbled for the others to wait, to grant her this last moment with the man who stole her heart. With a grim sigh, he held onto the passenger door. He was in love once before.

"Why?" Mitsui asked breathlessly, his lips grazing Reiko's ear as he gently held her head against his. "Why are you leaving?"

Tears flooded her eyes. She didn't know how to answer him.

"Is it me? Have I been inadequate somehow? Please don't leave! I'll make it up to you!" he cried, holding onto her like she was the last thread connected to life.

"No,… you have never been inadequate, ever," she replied as she shook her head. Pushing gently against his chest, she looked up at his pleading gaze. "You are the reason I want to stay, and yet… I cannot," she whimpered.

"But why?" he asked, sounding like a lost child.

She sobbed as she wiped her tears away with her gloved fingers. "I can't tell you, Mitsui-san. Not right now…"

The piercing sound of a horn resonated through the air, making Reiko look back at her waiting entourage, Jackson motioning her to hurry. She had to hurry.

"Reiko-san, whatever the matter is, I am always here for you. Please let me help you. I'll do anything you ask of me, anything, just don't leave me," he entreated, his intense eyes inducing more tears from his stretch partner's grey eyes.

"I… I can't… I… I have to carry this burden myself… but for now, Mitsui-san, I have one selfish request," she whispered as both of her hands reached behind her neck.

"Anything," answered the shooting guard, hoping she would change her mind, though his intuition told him otherwise.

Unclasping the necklace from her neck, she took hold of Mitsui's hand and deposited it in his keep. "All my life, I've been isolated and alone. I am not a stranger to loneliness… but I am a stranger to this paradise to which you have introduced me." Her hands now touching his cheeks, she gave him a kiss that rooted Mitsui to the ground, his embrace around her tightening. 

At that moment, time stood still.

Relinquishing the soft press of his lips, Reiko hugged him with all her might. 

"I love you, Mitsui-san… I love you more than life itself… but my life is not mine to keep right now."

"What?" he mumbled, his tears clouding his sight as she wiped them away.

"My one request," she begged, enclosing her hand around his hand that held the platinum pendant. "Please don't forget me."

"I don't understand."

Shuddering in sadness, she gave him one last embrace and quickly pushed against him, her form drawing back and running away towards the black vehicle, both hands holding either side of her dress to ease her weary steps. 

"Reiko!" he cried out, his arm reaching out helplessly.

Tears clouding her vision, she willed herself not to look back for fear of being drawn to him again with his pleading eyes. 

// _No, not like this… not like this!_ // 

Running after her, Mitsui couldn't bear the reality of letting her go, his mind screaming so many questions only she could answer. The passenger slamming shut, the Suburban was already in motion as he ran alongside it. He could see her silhouette through the tinted window, her hands against the glass and her beautiful, tear-streaked face looking straight at him.

"Please come back! I'll wait for you! Come back!"

The vehicle ran at a speed faster than his legs could carry him, and he suddenly came to a stop, his chest madly heaving up and down for air as the vehicle stretched farther and farther away from his sight. // Oh my God, she's gone… // Mitsui let the tears fall as the thought played over and over in his mind, his heart shattering into a million miserable pieces. He watched helplessly as the black Suburban made a turn at the next corner, taking with it the only woman he ever wanted to be with. 

A few seconds passed.

Then, an explosion.


	21. Chapter 21

Mitsui gasped at the blast that startled him, propelling his feet to take him as fast as he could around the corner.  He couldn't go more than a few meters from the stoplight, for there was smoldering debris covering the middle of the street.  Several cars parked by the sidewalk were on fire, and in the middle of the street was a pile of burning steel and tires, its black smoke rising to the heavens like a cursed funeral pyre.  The sight of the raging fire sent him into a fit of disbelief, for just a moment ago the Suburban just passed him by, speeding off with all his hopes and dreams, and now all that was left of it was a mangled mess of melted steel on the concrete.  He could hear the blaring sirens of a fire truck from a distance, and residents of the nearby houses halted their dinners to investigate the noise.  Minutes later, he was lost in the midst of curious and inquiring people, Mitsui still frozen in place and staring at the horror before him as others innocuously pushed him aside to get a better view of the accident.  The wind shifted the smoke westward where the people stood, and the smoke was enough to drive them away, allowing firemen to plow through and control the damage.  From the corner of his eye, Mitsui caught the glimpse of what looked like an arm against the wall of the adjacent building, and past it tumbled a torn piece of white fabric burned on the edges, reminiscent of Reiko's dress.  

He vomited.

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          The Mitsuis thanked all those who came to visit their son after the memorial, and the entire basketball team, Coach Sato and his team, even the president of the school stopped by to show their support and give their condolences.  It was a wet day that day, and the downpour had been constant since the night before.  Mrs. Mitsui had been busy serving tea and had Ami put the flowers they received from people into vases filled with water.  At one point the girl didn't know where to put the remainder of the flowers; she ran out of vases for them.  The Mitsui household was packed with people that afternoon, and as tea was served, conversations were toned down to hushed timbres and nods.  Seated on the sofa was the shooting guard, his eyes glassy over his love lost; his teammates were silent and dumbfounded, for they didn't know what words of comfort to tell him, if they could even comfort him.  One by one they left, telling Mitsui how sorry they were for his loss, and giving him a consoling embrace.  His high school teammates were the last to leave, their words a little less laconic and carried a more brotherly tone.  He returned their hold with a tight embrace, each one of them noting the emptiness that showed in his eyes.  They all took their leave and said their goodbyes, thanking the Mitsuis for the tea before stepping out into the thick sheets of rain that fell from the sky.  

Walking in silence, none of them spoke a word until Ayako, Miyagi and Akagi parted ways at the next intersection.  

          "Miyagi…" the center mumbled.

          "Yeah?"

          Akagi hesitated.  "What do we do for him now?"

          He was answered with a shrug as Miyagi cast his gaze at the ground.  "I don't know, Gori…  The only thing we _can do is be there for him."_

          A grunt.

          "Only time will heal this… but it's his decision when to get over it."

          The point guard shook his head.  "That's a long time from now, Akagi.  A very long time."

          They mumbled their goodbyes and made their way home through the rain, Ayako walking alongside Miyagi.  Several minutes passed without one word spoken, and finally when they reached Ayako's house, Miyagi held onto her hand.

          "Aya-chan, I just want you to know that I love you," he said, taking her palm and pressing it against his warm and moist cheek, a few droplets of water clinging to that side that wasn't well-shielded by the shared umbrella.

          A soft smile tugged on her lips.  "I know, silly."

          Shaking his head, he closed his eyes.  "I just want to tell you more often than I usually do."

          She somehow understood the sentiment behind his words and allowed him to continue, her other hand pulling on the overcoat she wore.

          "I really, really admire Mitchy,… he's a lot braver than me."

          "Why do you say that?" she whispered.

          Miyagi heaved a quiet sigh.  "Because if it had been you in that car, I don't think I'd have the strength to live without you.  I may as well be dead."

          She embraced him with all her might and he returned it with equal fervor, Miyagi burying his face in her thick and damp curly locks, Ayako's tears brimming at the loss of her friend and Mitsui's miserable condition.

*********************************************************

Through a pathway lined with poplar trees and sculpted shrubbery, a lone mausoleum stood atop a rolling hill overlooking a lush green fairway, far away from the numerous gravestones down below.  Its gates creaked to welcome in the visitors, the eerie screech of the rusty hinges reminiscent of earlier visits.  Nothing a little oil couldn't fix…

          A solitary figure left the others and a shadow interrupted the stream of sunlight illuminating the short walkway that led to the main chamber.  There were carved windows that faced east, allowing the chamber to receive the sun's rays in all its morning glory.  Four marble casings outlining that of a casket lay inside the bright hall, the vases by their bases filled with fresh flowers.  Irises, orchids and amaryllises for the ladies, blue and purple roses for the gentlemen.  It would have been nice to have them see these gorgeous arrangements made for them everyday, but then again, had they been alive, there would be no need for such pretty flowers and the sentiments behind them.  

          For some reason, that morning was rather difficult to bear.  And it was always here that peace could be found, no matter how temporary it was.  How peculiar, one would think, to find solace in the resting place of the dead.  But it doesn't matter at the moment.

          "Because I am lost," a voice sought quietly.  "Please help me find the courage to find my way."

          Silence.

          The cool surface of the third marble casing gave a shallow sense of relief, and curling into a fetal position atop its surface provided a hard lap for the head to rest its fears and worries, as it has done many times before on those occasions that were spiritually insufferable.

          But only for a little while.

*********************************************************

          Mitsui couldn't stand the sight of sunlight.  He dreaded waking up, even cursed the sun for rising and rousing him from dreamless slumber.  He tightly clung to each drowsy sensation, shutting his eyes and turning away from the windows, and finally burying his head under the covers altogether.

 // _If everything could just be still_… //

          Downstairs, a meal waited on the dining table untouched, and three hopeful faces looked up the stairs at the shooting guard's bedroom door.  Mrs. Mitsui looked at the time on the wall clock.  Half past one in the afternoon.  Her husband snaked his arm around hers and locked his hand onto hers, giving her a weak smile and caressing her cheek before kissing it.  It wasn't enough to assuage the worry on her brow.  He sighed.  She was a mother after all, and their son's heart was broken.

          It remained quiet in the Mitsui household, Ami sitting still on the sofa while her parents thought of something productive to do.

          The Mitsuis' eyes looked up at the wall clock's chiming of the hour.  

          Another silent hour had passed, the meal on the table forgotten.

*********************************************************

          "Whenever you're ready…"

          Silence.

          A nod.

          "Do you regret this decision?"

          A pause.

          Reluctance.

          "Either way, I lose a part of myself…"

          Confession.

          "Please forgive me."

          A forced smile.

          "There is no need."

          Hesitation.

          "If I may put it in a different light… I would like… to think of this as a new beginning."

          Hush.

          "What do you think?"

          Still.

          A small smile.

          "I like the sound of that…"

          Relief.

          "Shall we begin?"

*********************************************************

          The beginning of the spring semester flew by, and the halls of the university were once again filled with students, enlivened by new hopes and a brighter outlook for the new year, though not everybody was possessed by the same spirit.

          For obvious reasons he chose to ignore, Mitsui strolled quietly through the hallways of the math building with his book bag slung across his opposite shoulder.  Because of his strong persona on the basketball court, most of the students lollygagging in the hallways knew about him, the MVP award, the genuine grin he used to wear on his face and all circumstances that implied.  In the past it wasn't uncommon for him to receive voiced adulation and praise for his efforts on the court from his peers, but not today.  Akagi saw him coming as he took a sip of water from the water fountain, wiped his lower lip and stood erect.  His mouth pursed tighter at the thought.  

          Not for a while.

          "Hey Mitsui," Akagi called out, the smile on his face small and weak, "what class are you going to?"

          "Differential equations two," he answered, halting his stride as he approached his friend.  "I luckily passed the first one last semester," he added with a small grin.

          Taking hope from this small gesture, the center's face brightened.  "Hey, me, too.  I guess you and I are going to be in the same class again."

          "Misery must really love company."

          Akagi couldn't bring himself to laugh at his comment even with Mitsui's grin.  "Hopefully it won't be too miserable," he replied, trying to turn the mood.

          Walking down the hall, each kept quietly to his own as they garnered more looks and hushed whispers from the others they passed in the hallway.  All that time, Akagi couldn't stop his insides from churning at the thought that the only reason why he and Mitsui ever passed last semester's class was because of Reiko.  As they found two seats in the middle of the room, he stared pensively at the board as the monotone professor spoke of the semester's class syllabus. 

          When will he be able to say her name again without seeing the hurt in his friend's eyes?

          Not for a while.

          He took up his pencil and began to write the professor's scribbling on the board, trying to dismiss the depressing thought sinking in his chest.

*********************************************************

          The steam from the press of the dry cleaning machines clouded the workroom with a stifling atmosphere mingling with pungent odor of sweat that made the mail courier's nose hairs curl in disgust.  He looked forward to finishing his deliveries in this wing of the penitentiary; it was even a miracle that someone in that God-forsaken place would receive any mail.

          By each pressing machine was a large laundry basket filled to the brim with soiled apparel, and it seemed like it would take ages if one was to finish the bottom of the pile.  And that's exactly what all the men in there had:  ages.

          "Kawamura," called out the courier, his eyes straining through the rising steam to see the face of the man to whom he was handing the letter.

          He did not expect a word of gratitude nor even the slightest acknowledgement, and so it was of no surprise when the skeletal man ripped the envelope from the courier's grasp.  

          "Fucking loser," he muttered as he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the skinny man to his pathetic task in that pathetic hell hole.

          Wiping his wrinkled brow with the back of his forehand, he tore the side of the envelope and blinked a few times before unfolding the letter.  Squinting slightly at the paltry lighting of his surroundings, his slit beady eyes focused on the characters neatly printed on the paper.

          _"Kawamura-sensei –_

_          Long ago, I stood on the porch of your grandfather's home when he gave me a piece of paper with the same string of equations you wrote on the board a few weeks ago.  It had been a childish riddle then… he never expected me to solve it.  So when I gave the sheet of paper back with my answer, he was appalled.  _

_It was his life's work, an equation that supercedes that of Albert Einstein's genius.  _

_          When Kamata-sensei was bed-ridden with pneumonia, he made me promise not to let anyone know about the equations.  I was young then and knew not the weight of this promise to this day, only that it was extremely important to him, and that this promise was not meant to be broken.  I broke this agreement partly due to absentmindedness, and partly due to careless curiosity.  _

_I regret letting him down._

_          I do not know how you found out about his equations, and it is not my business.  _

_          However, you have harmed those important to me, and though I was angered by your hurtful actions, I have reason to believe that they were done in jealousy. _

_          There is no doubt that you are a very intelligent person, and a very capable one at what you know best.  So when you raised your voice at me in irritation, I could not help but feel sorry for your frustration at your fruitless efforts of solving your grandfather's equation.  I know not your grandfather's reasons for concealing the answers of his equation and the importance it carries; however, I believe that I should not be penalized for being able to unravel the secret to Kamata-sensei's equations.  _

_Without the last equation, the previous four are useless.  You nearly plumbed it out of me, but it is futile.  I will never reveal its answer, and I will take it with me to the grave._

_          I am disappointed at your lack of politesse, Kawamura-sensei.  With envy in your heart, you will never be on the same spectrum of thought to which your wonderful grandfather has ascended.  _

                                                                                                                             -- _Nakamichi Reiko"_

          Fisting the letter in his white-knuckled fist, the reedy professor hurled the offending sheet of paper onto the ground, his skinny arms shaking in fury as he loudly muttered curses that sent one of the overseeing guards to quiet him down with harsh words.  Pursing his lips quickly, he returned to his menial task of emptying the large laundry basket by his workstation one garment at a time.  

          So what if he was envious, he thought, pressing on a shirt with undue force.  He had every right to be.  His grandfather, his own flesh and blood chose her, her!  Chose that bratty girl over him to teach what his family did best: mathematical equations.  She couldn't have been more than 10 years old, and he was already in college with the highest of honors at the time.  And still he chose her!  He grit his teeth as he worked on another garment, his careless finger momentarily getting in the way of the hot iron's tip and burning the skin off, producing more curses from his pale, thin lips.  He stopped for an instant to bring the offended finger to his mouth as he cursed the iron, cursed the task he was forced to do like a slave, cursed his grandfather for teaching an unrelated girl rather than him the secret behind his genius and damned the name of Nakamichi Reiko.  

          "Hey, lazy ass, you better get back to work if you know what's good for you," growled the guard who previously told him to shut up.

          Grumbling, he did as he was told.

*********************************************************

          "Okay, turn down the lights, guys.  Let's run this ," said a spectacled man behind a large control panel, with several men and women in white coats manning different sections of the board and monitors.  

          "Pulse rate slightly elevated, blood pressure unchanged.  Temperature 97.40F.  All systems stable."

          A cough. 

          "Let's proceed."

           Bending over a small microphone on the control panel, the same spectacled man spoke.  "We'll be starting now.  Are you doing okay in there?"        "Yes, sir," a watery voice answered.

          "Increase the voltage by two volts and heat the water three degrees more."

          Hands flew over the control board, switches and buttons were pushed and numbers on the monitors changed.

          "Let's see how she does.  Please slide the panels open."

          At the words, two equal and separate pieces of the wall began to part to the sides, revealing a brightly lit tank filled with clear liquid to the brim and a lone figure floating in its keep, a face mask covering most of the face save the eyes.  Minutes go by and the water slowly took on a faint pink hue, and the people manning the board began to report their findings in a cacophony of voices.

          "Sakura point reached."

          "No change in pressure, pulse rate has increased five points."

          "Transfer rate increasing exponentially, reaching optimum rate at T minus fifteen seconds…"

          A faint smile crossed the doctor's face as he walked over to the microphone.  

          "How do you feel so far, dear?"

          Diverting her attention to the man behind the microphone, the figure waved slowly at the doctor, giving him a thumb up.  

          "Catalyzing rate has increased ten percent, sir," stated the man to his right.  Mumbles of approval filled the room.

          "That's great news," the doctor commented, patting the white-coated man on the back.  Turning back to the floating figure before him, he bent down once again to the microphone. 

          "You're doing much better than before, Rei."

          The subject in the tank waved once more and somersaulted like some playful mermaid in the water.

          "Optimum rate at t minus five seconds…"

          The doctor took his seat against the wall as he fished for his handkerchief.  

          "Four…"

          "Rose point reached."

          "Three…"

          "Internal temperature has increased one degree."

          "Two…"

          "Shut down ready."

          "One."

          "Rose red point reached."

          "Zero."

          "Shutting down."

          The switch for the current was turned off and all eyes moved to the tank and its now reddish waters, the mermaid floating in its center reaching behind her head to remove the mask covering her face.

          Dr. Nakamichi sank back in his seat, his gaze upon his niece who surfaced for air from the tank, her guards reaching down to lend her a hand out of its blushing depths.  As he mulled the new results over, one of the white coats approached him with a printout of numbers and graphs.

          "Sir, with just a two volt increase, toxin levels decreased by some fifteen percent in comparison to all previous experiments."

          The doctor nodded, his eyes now looking at the cold floor.

          "Um… sir, I don't know if it's of any importance at all, but I've noticed that the transfer rate increased some four points at t minus four seconds," he said, circling a small peak on the graph with his pen.  "I don't know what could have brought this about…"

          "Hm…" the doctor mumbled as he brought a hand to rest pensively over his mouth.  

          "All the controls were fixed," the man thought out loud, looking down at the paper.

          As if struck by the lightning of an idea in an instant, Dr. Nakamichi began to laugh, so much so that his researchers turned their heads at him in confusion, some whispering to each other with shrugging shoulders.  He was overwhelmed with laughter that he fell back into his seat, partly bent over as he shook with unexplained mirth.  All attention was on him as the room grew silent, his laughter dying into hushed chuckles as he wiped the corners of his eyes with his handkerchief.

          "Oh my God… it's so simple… why did it take me years to think about this?" he mumbled to himself as if nobody else could hear him.

          He received more inquiring looks from his colleagues.

          Recollecting himself, Dr. Nakamichi motioned for his staff members to gather around.

          "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for a job well done.  I'm sorry about that little fit of hysteria.  It's just… well, never mind.  Listen, I would like for us to start at square one."

          "What?" the white coats collectively asked.

          "Relax, I'll explain it all later.  Meanwhile, I'd like an evaluation of her mental status, and provide me a blood chemistry report.  She's going to need a day of rest before we can begin experimentation again."

          Pens scribbled away to jot down the doctor's orders on their clipboards when the doctor erupted in a coughing frenzy, prompting the researcher closest to him to place a hand gently against his back.  

          "Are you all right, Doctor?"

          He forced himself to nod through his coughing fit.  When he finally regained composure, he sat up straight in his seat and looked at his watch.  A few days may be too much down time…

          "Okay, we'll give it another go the day after tomorrow, so take the rest of today and tomorrow off, folks."  

          The white coats nodded and made their way to the exit, with Dr. Nakamichi trailing behind.  Looking up at the platform that touched the mouth of the immersion chamber, he wore a wry smile as he walked through the doors of the lab.  The guards had already taken her back to the house, and he found some comfort at the thought.  It took them nearly a year to get this far with their results, and they had a long way to go.  He wanted the process to work for her with a hundred percent efficacy and no side effects.  So far, there had been none; this proved that the change in the substrate mixture in the water improved her recovery time drastically.  And if his incredibly simple idea is correct, then optimum detoxification with maximum efficacy would definitely be attainable in a shorter amount of time.  This is what he prayed for, at least.  

          Closing the lab's doors behind him, he walked down the quiet hall leading to the stairs as he struggled through another fit of coughing.

*********************************************************

          "Say cheese!" 

          A small smile spanned the lips on Mitsui's face as both his parents posed for a picture on either side of their son.  Ami waited for her older brother to raise the black canvas-covered diploma against his chest before taking the picture.  Taking the diploma from her brother, Ami studied the elegant writing across the fine paper of the diploma.  Many other families were there for their children's graduation, and flashes of lights from eager parents' cameras', a common occurrence that early evening.  Relaxing after the pose, Akagi and the rest of the graduating seniors on the basketball team found Mitsui and began to chat.

          Mr. and Mrs. Mitsui stood and watched their son talk to his friends from a distance as the warm summer breeze blew past the courtyard, gently forcing a few strands of hair to stray from the back of Mrs. Mitsui's ear to her fair visage.  Another season has passed.  She couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness as she looked on at her son; a year and a half had gone by since that day his love and laughter died.  It had been difficult for them all to see their Hisashi go through an indescribably silent depression, and she was at a loss for words to describe such despair.  The long hours of isolation in his room, the terse conversations at the dinner table, plates of food barely touched.  Little by little he turned around, slowly found his appetite and gradually replaced his short conversations with longer, more engaging ones.  When they saw him smile for the first time in what seemed like ages at the dinner table, the Mitsuis were elated; even Ami showed her excitement when she winked and whispered to her parents that things are going to get better before going to bed that night.  Mrs. Mitsui allowed a small smile to creep across her pensive face.  Their little Ami's excitement was more a sigh of relief.  She was rather attached to her brother, and his happiness mattered to her just as much as it did to them.  

          She prayed that it really would get better.

          The men clad in graduation garb stood around in a broken circle as they asked each other of their plans for the future.  Miyagi and Ayako later joined the group to give their congratulations, and soon quiet laughter broke out from their circle as the point guard lightened the mood.

          "I'm serious, guys," Miyagi said with a grin.  "Our team has got to be the best looking one compared to all the other collegiate teams."

          "Yeah?  So you think Akagi's a looker?" asked Keiichi with a wily smirk.  

          "You better believe it," replied the point guard, throwing Akagi a wink and a flying kiss that sickened the center to his gut.  Laughter rang out from all who saw and heard.

          Thrusting his hands in his pockets, Mitsui produced a grin that made everyone look in wonder.  His once dashing smiles and infectious laughter were once thought to have altogether vanished, and seeing him like so gave them hopes of brighter, wider ones to come.  

          "I'm gonna miss you, guys."

          The point guard frowned.  "What the hell are you talking about?  You live two streets over from my house, you monkey!"

          "Wait," piped Akagi.  "Is there something you're not telling us, Mitsui?"

          Pausing to look at the concrete under his shoes, he forced himself to hold the smile on his face.  "Remember that internship I did last summer?"

          "Yeah?" answered the center expectantly.

          "Well, they offered me a job.  I start next week."

          Whistles and cheers broke out from his companions, and Ayako happily congratulated him.  

          "Is it local or what?" interrupted Miyagi.

          "I'll be in Tokyo from time to time."

          "But you're still going to play basketball, right?" posed Kazuma as he loosened his tie.

          Mitsui paused for a while before replying.  "Maybe on the side."

          A look of hilarity overcame Miyagi's face.  "What about pro ball?"

          The shooting guard blinked at his friend.  "What about it?"

          "Aren't you going to try out?  I know your ass got invitations from several teams," crowed Miyagi as he cocked his head proudly.  

          Ayako remarked the disinclining manner in Mitsui's voice.  "Yeah, but I don't know... maybe I should try something else... you know...  something different."

          An awkward silence fell over them as all of them considered the point guard's words, knowing that the source of his trepidation was a lack of drive.  Nothing could push his will with enough steam to drive him past the upper limits of his ability.  Not since...

          Ayako looked away for a second and closed her eyes briefly, silently thinking out her words.  _Not since she had gone..._

          Miyagi broke the ice with a scratch of his nose.  "Well, I hope you're not too Mr. Busy tonight to play a friendly game of hoop," he said, extracting nods of hushed approval from the group.

          "I can do that," Mitsui replied as he shifted his weight on his left leg.  

          "Sweet," thought the point guard loudly, shooting Akagi an evil grin.  "You guys do know that Hanamichi is trying out for our team this fall, right?"

          Gapes of disbelief were all around.

          "So why don't we make sure he's got enough material to be with the national champs?" boasted Miyagi as he brought fisted hands to his hips.  

          "Sounds good, Ryochin, but dinner's on you," crooned Akagi.

          "What?!"

          Ayako laughed at her boyfriend as he playfully bickered with his graduated teammates, catching a rare chuckle from Mitsui whose face somewhat brightened with his laugh.  It was a slow process, but things have been looking on the up-and-up for the shooting guard.  

          Meanwhile, she had dinner for eight to think about....

*********************************************************

          An hour after arriving home from the commencement, Mitsui felt restless and displaced.  Shrugging out of his suit and tie, he donned more comfortable clothing and sat at the foot of his bed for a moment.  He closed his eyes.  Did time really fly by this quickly?  He finished his engineering degree in what seemed like a blink of an eye.  He didn't know how to answer his question, for regardless of how time changed everyone and everything around him, he still felt the same inside, the same empty void with no hope of ever being filled.  He longed for the day when he would wake up and find all this to be some passing nightmare, to open his eyes and come alive again.  He let out a wretched sigh.  These days, he could only see the world through glassy, disenchanted eyes.

          Getting on his feet, he descended down the stairs.  He didn't want to wallow in self-pity and willed himself to move in the hopes of forgetting the reason why he was so forlorn.

          "I'm going to take a walk," he announced as he stood by the door, putting his shoes on.  

          Mrs. Mitsui looked up from her newspaper column.  "Will you be playing with Akagi-kun and the others?"

          Mitsui bit his lower lip in thought as he reached for his coat in the adjacent closet.  "Maybe a little later, Mom.  I'll see you guys later."  

          They watched him tie his shoelaces, open the door and shut it softly behind him.

          Mitsui took a right past the gates and kept walking, not caring where his legs carried him just as long as he didn't stay still long enough for depressing thoughts to surface once more.   He passed the local basketball court where he used to play as a child and where Kogure found him when he found out about…  He looked straight ahead and blinked his eyes, as if to prevent himself from thinking of her.  He wondered how Kogure was doing.

          // _Good… this is what I really need… just move… //_

          He soon passed the borders of his subdivision and walked into the business district, the glare of the neon shop lights making his eyes squint as he kept his leisurely pace that seemed too slow for the passersby sharing the sidewalk with him.  The buzz of people talking as he passed them by was welcomed noised to him, anything that distracted him from his thoughts.  Minutes later he approached the day care where he used to work.  A small grin crossed his lips.  The children he used to care for must be bigger now… // Man, I'm getting old… // He nearly laughed at the memory of little Nonoko and Sousuke running around the day care center, entertaining the presumption that they were no longer so little.  

          Suddenly stopping in his tracks, Mitsui turned around and retraced his steps before making a left at the previous intersection.  Making his way through the university quarter, he walked past the groups of students hanging out at the bookstore and the arcades.  Looking right, he regarded the construction by the main building and the bell chimes hanging aloft its clock tower.  

          Half past seven.

          He made his way down the avenue, staring blankly ahead as several couples passed him by with hushed, bubbling laughter.  A child ran into him as she hurried and skipped to a nearby shop window that showcased a teddy bear having tea with two other bears.  Quickly apologizing to him, Mitsui's eyes followed and watched her as she pointed to the bears and spoke to herself in some childish gibber he couldn't make out.  Looking up at the store sign, he was surprised to find himself in front of the bakery he often frequented with Reiko.

          // _With Reiko… //_

          He quickly walked away, stuffing his hands in his pockets as his eyes scanned the street for a diversion, for anything that wouldn't remind him of her.  He grit his teeth as he crossed the street.  She was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it, and yet this walk he so desperately hoped to make him forget was flooding his mind with her face, her voice, those bright eyes of blue that made him plead to God to grant him another vivid glimpse of her.  

          // _Just__ to hold her again… //_

          His legs carried him several more blocks down the avenue and into the park where the same old and large oak tree stood majestically, its numerous leaves rustling quietly in the summer wind.  He wasn't mistaken; this was the same tree, and under its broad branches the same place where she fell asleep on his shoulder.  Walking under its umbrella, he stood over the spot where they had once laid a picnic blanket and sat down to watch… what was it again?  Oh yes… high school kids throwing Frisbees around.  He sat down by the roots of the tree and leaned against its trunk.  He took a deep breath.

          "Would you like to get some ice cream?"

          A faint whistling of the wind.

          Silence.

          Mitsui began to laugh, a gurgling, bubbling laugh that quieted down to suppressed, teary sobs that made him reach for his face with both hands and crumple in his seat.  It was no use.  No matter how much he tried to get away from her memory, it seemed like anything he did or any place he went to reminded him of Reiko.  She was ever-present, and regardless of where he looked, he saw her face in every shop on every street, heard her haunting voice with every waking moment.  She was everywhere and nowhere to be found.  He was saturated with her to the marrow, she was in his blood, she was in the air he breathed.  

          He wept bitterly, not bothering to wipe his tears away because he knew they were just a few droplets of emotion that escaped the floodgates of anguish that dwelled in his heavy heart.  They, too, would disappear; he knew this, because she did.

*********************************************************

          "Go ahead and give me your report."

          "Yes, sir.  He has somewhat recovered from it all, though he has put all his athletic energies on hold for an engineering job in Tokyo.  He is still withdrawn.  So far, he turned down two offers to play for professional teams.  The university is currently finishing the building they agreed to erect in the west mall of the grounds, and the president is asking the foundation what names we wanted to have etched on the marble plaque.  So which ones will it be, sir?"

          "Just the last name will be fine."

          "Very good, sir."

          "Is that all?"

          "Actually… regarding Nakamichi-dono…"

          "Yes?"

          "Yesterday was the first time I've seen her show her frustrations."

          "Oh?  How so?"

          "She threw punches and kicks that came close to equaling Sakai's strength, and she knocked Fuji off his feet during her sparring lesson."

          A cough.

          "Well, that might have something to do with it, too.  The cells in her body are changing, Jackson, and it's no surprise that her muscle fibers are more resilient than ever.  The old man is teaching her well."

          Sigh.

          "I know she's unhappy… don't worry, it won't be that way for long.  Just a little more tweaking with the specs and I can rest peacefully, for good."

          A somber nod.

          "How are you feeling, sir?"

          "I feel how I look."

          Grim withdrawal.  

          "Has she… have you heard her put the blame on me?"

          A shake of the head.

          "No, sir."

          Pitiful laughter.

          "Well, maybe she won't say it to my face."

          "Maybe she won't at all."

          Surprise.

          "What makes you say that?"

          "She loves you, sir... This is all about protection."

          Curiosity.

          "Hers?"

          "No, sir.  Yours."

          Another cough.

          "I know I can't protect her forever… but this is the last thing I can give her before I leave this place."

          No comment.

          "I've broken her."

          "She can recover."

          A tilt of the head.

          "She 'can' or she _will?"_

          Shrug.

          "It all depends on opportunity, sir."

          "Yes, you're absolutely right… sometimes, you have to carve out your own opportunities in life."

          Assent.

          "You know… in that golden heart of hers is a dragon of anger and misery waiting to be unleashed.  For her sake and mine, please bring it out."

          A nod.

          "And Jackson?"

          "Please proceed with the next task at hand."

          "Any changes to it?"

          "Not at the moment.  Handle it however you'd like.  Just make it happen."

          "Understood."

*********************************************************

          "Just one more, Mitchy, come on!"

          Mitsui grunted as he strained to push against the 250-pound weight on the bar, his lungs exhaling as he focused all his energy to counter its force, the bar rising slowly above his chest.

          "You're almost there, man," encouraged Miyagi as he stood behind the bench press to spot the shooting guard.  When Mitsui's arms reached full extension, Miyagi took hold of the weight and replaced the bar onto the supporting hooks with the loud clang of steel against steel.  "Good job, Mitsui."

          Remaining still on the bench, Mitsui took a few moments to catch his breath, his brow slick with perspiration as he took his sleeve to wipe the moisture off.  He and Miyagi have been lifting weights for three hours now, and he could feel the workout take its toll on his muscles.

          "Hey, not bad.  Maybe the next time you're in town, you can add another ten pounds or so," suggested Miyagi as he reached for his water bottle.

          Still panting, Mitsui grinned.  "Maybe."

          Taking a big swig, Miyagi wiped his mouth with his sleeve.  "So whatcha been up to these days?"

          "Work, work and more work."

          "No shit?  You don't shoot hoops anymore?"

          Mitsui shrugged.  "No time."  He was answered by a laugh.

          "Don't give me that.  It's not because you don't have time, it's because you don't _make_ the time for it.  So now that you know the difference, can you honestly say that you don't have time to play?"

          The shooting guard paused pensively for a second.  "Yeah, I'd still say I have no time for it."

          Miyagi heaved a sigh.  "Jeez, Mitsui!  You can't let that shooting form of yours lose edge!"

          Mitsui laughed at his friend's mock seriousness.  Although Miyagi's tone was kidding, he knew that his words masked a small, honest plea to preserve his skill.  He took his towel hanging from the weight rack and buried his face in it.  // _Maybe Miyagi's right…_ // 

          "So," said Miyagi as he took a seat next to his friend.  "How's Tokyo?"

          The shooting guard's face crumpled.  "Stuffy."

          Miyagi laughed.  "You know, if you would've signed on a team like Gori did, maybe you wouldn't be stuck in one city all the time."

          Groaning, Mitsui rolled his eyes.  "Yes, _mother, I know."_

          "You know it's not too late, right?"

          Mitsui pursed his lips.  "Yeah, I know."  Exhaling, he added, "I just don't have the will to do it, Ryochin."

          Miyagi's game face softened at his nickname and he regarded his friend quietly, noting the dull look in his eyes that stared blankly at the mounted television in the corner casting the news.  He knew the real reason why he didn't want to play.  He sighed inwardly.  Two years have already passed.  He followed with his eyes and looked at the screen, the news anchor reporting the weather forecast for the week.  He wondered if anyone could predict when his friend would come out of his lackluster spell.  

Removing his eyes from the television, he looked around the gym.  Only a handful of people were there, mostly older men on the treadmills and exercise bikes.  Glancing at his wristwatch, he turned to Mitsui.

          "Hey, I gotta go.  Aya-chan's gonna be worried if I don't check in."

          Mitsui nearly laughed.  "No, it's more like _you will be worried if you don't check in."_

          Miyagi pretended to be irritated.  "Oh, just shut up already.  I know I'm whipped, so just leave me alone."  And with that, he waved Mitsui off.  "So when are you leaving town?"

          "Tomorrow morning."

          "Shit, already?  I thought we were gonna have time to play some ball."

          "Sorry.  Work awaits."

          "All right, but you owe me," he warned, holding his hand out for a handshake.  Matching his grip, Mitsui nodded.  "I'll see you later, Mitchy."

          He watched the point guard walk away, and when he disappeared through the doors, Mitsui decided to do another several sets of ten reps on the bench press, this time taking a hundred pounds off the bar.  Taking in a deep breath, he lied down on the bench face-up against the bar, his concentration focused on the steel beam suspended above him.  // _Forget__ everything… //_

          Exhaling, he took hold of the bar, gripped his thick fingers around and pushed the bar off the support hooks.  Pausing for a moment, he took a breath in as he lowered the weight to his chest, exhaling loudly as he raised it above him in full arm extension.  He willed his thoughts to think of the bar, the weight and nothing else.  // _Nothing else._ //  He stopped counting and just repeatedly pushed against the bar until his arms got tired, at which moment he took a few minutes to rest so he could do it all over again.  Mitsui had gotten used to this routine; it was much easier to focus one's efforts on a bar, to move against one solitary weight, one that existed and was tangible than to push away thoughts of a person whom he will only see in his dreams.  All he could hear was his breath, rhythmic and cyclic, the weight of the bar constant against his force, and the sound of his breathing drowned out the whir of the exercise bikes, the heel strike of footsteps on the treadmills and the voice of the news anchor on the television.

          "In the business news this evening, the Nikkei Index was up nineteen and a quarter points, thanks in part to a large surge in the engineering sector, with Pinnacle the biggest winner in stock prices.  After the announcement of the company's purchase of the biotech company Lexicon Laboratories, Pinnacle's stock prices increased thirty-five percent.  At a recent press conference, the CEO of Pinnacle stated that they are expanding their engineering interests into biochemistry.  And now a word from our sponsors."

*********************************************************

          Walking slowly down the hallway of the estate's large patio, Jackson's hands found their way into his pockets as a gust of wind blew through the expanse of the corridor, his hair whisking in its direction.  His lips pursed in thought.  The doctor was progressively getting weaker with each passing day.  He had lost a considerable amount of weight, and despite the pleasant smile he wore in front of his beloved niece, the emaciated lines of his face dramatically aged his handsome features.  He smiled like an old man.  Jackson paused in his steps, gazing at the ground as he ruminated on what the future will bring for the one will be left behind.  After his short talk with her uncle, there wasn't much to think about what will happen to him.  She was all that will be left.

          He needed to carry his orders quickly.

          Walking forward once more, Jackson heard the faint, shifting sounds of what seemed like beads in a packed pillow.  Rounding the corner, he found her in the middle of the yard, a large bean bag in the image of a person tied securely to a wooden pole taking the kicks she delivered with her nimble legs.  He looked at his watch.  A quarter past one.

          "Can't sleep?" he asked as he approached her, finding her pet sitting tamely on the tiled walkway bordering the lawn.  

          Recomposing herself, she stood erect and wiped her cheek with her sleeve.  "It has been difficult lately."

          Spying the water bottle on the patio table, Jackson swiped it and tossed the bottle her way, her hands reflexively catching the vessel of water.  

          "Thank you," she said before drinking out of the bottle.  Taking his hands out of his pockets, he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest as he leaned his weight against the table.

          "What are you working on?" he asked, noting the places where the bead man took her hits.

          She shrugged with a small grin.  "Master Li said I am still too slow with my movements."

          "Really?" he replied, not really caring for her instructor's opinions.  He remembered the aging man when Reiko's family was still alive; Fuji and Miller's fathers would drive her to the Chinese man's training hall for lessons in tai chi, a suggestion her mother gave her to sharpen her focus.  Master Li wasn't so old then, and he wasn't so lenient either.  If it weren't for Reiko's quickness to pick up all the forms he taught her, she would have received a scolding just like the rest of his older students.  Jackson smiled inwardly at the memory.  How did a blind man know when his students were slacking off?  Master Li was a man who saw with his ears.  Just why he was hired to teach her again, he didn't understand.  Jackson took his suit jacket off and removed his tie, placing both articles of clothing on the nearest chair.  

          "Well then… would you like someone to spar with?" he offered, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up his arms.  

          She gave him a faint smile.  "If you don't mind, Mr. Jackson," she answered, moving one step back as she stood in a beginning stance.  

          Without warning, Jackson struck first, his image a blur in her eyes as she blocked his fist from hitting the side of her head.  She gasped at the unexpected hit, and when she realized that the guard wasn't going to go easy on her, she steeled herself and countered with a flurry of punches and kicks.  She met each of his blows with a yielding force, letting his hits to almost connect but fluidly swaying them aside, a muffled grunt escaping her lips with each parry.  They moved across the lawn, blocking kicks, throwing punches under the night sky, the dog watching them with curious eyes and ears.  

          As she blocked a hit, she pushed Jackson away with all her might and stepped back to pause, her chest rising and falling rapidly for air.  

          "You've gotten so good at this, Nakamichi-dono," commented Jackson as he charged at her with a kick.  Meeting the blow with her hand, she followed the motion of the kick through, crouched down and swiped Jackson off his feet.  Before she could stomp on his chest, the burly guard rolled away swiped her legs in return.  Both of them were now scrambling to stand, each eyeing the other in pursuit of an opening.  Jackson studied her wary eyes against the light of the moon, their squinting shape startling him for a second, like the chary eyes of an animal disturbed from its slumber.  

          Now, the dragon was emerging.  

          "You think it's unfair, don't you?" he asked as he blocked one of her punches, noting the widening of her cold grey eyes.  He didn't wait for an answer as he took hold of her arm and twisted it behind her back in one swift move.  "You don't have to hold back."

          She let out a small grunt when she took her footing in between Jackson's feet, stepped back and tripped the guard off-balance, forcing him to relinquish her captured arm.  He looked back at her and found her more agitated than before.

          "Don't think I can't see it in your eyes," he drawled, facing off with her as she paced in a clockwise motion, her brows knitted, partly in anger, wholly confused.  "You think all this—"

          Jackson caught his breath as he blocked a charging punch from her, taken aback by the speed at which she rushed at him.  He added more fuel to the fire.

          "You don't have to be perfect all the time."

          Blocked kick.

          "You're not required to be sweet all the time."

          Sharp elbow.

          "Why don't you blame somebody?"

          Flying fists.

          "Why don't you let it all out?"

          Aggravated by his words, Jackson knew he had truly bruised her self-control when she relentlessly threw punches and kicks that even he didn't know she could do.  Punch after kick, she let out a primal scream before delivering the last punch that connected with Jackson's abdomen, every ounce of energy in every muscle of her being powering the force behind her fist.  Stunned at the blow, the burly guard gritted his teeth; what was supposed to be a friendly spar had turned into a slippery slope of lost restraint, and he was fully responsible for it, his muscled abdomen contracting against the pain.  Wincing, he looked into her face, still concentrated and intent on tearing him apart, her brow furrowed in anger, her ghostly eyes ashen with rage.  She held her fist where it connected, her breathing labored as moments passed by like hours, her eyes slowly softening as if coming out of her angry daze.  Suddenly, she looked up and broke her fist's contact against Jackson's body, retracting it like a child's hand touching a forbidden object as she jumped further back and away from him.  

          "Good God… I am so sorry, Mr. Jackson," her voice quivered, her lungs still hungering for air as she closed her other hand over the offending fist.  "I… I should not have let you get to me."

          Placing a hand over the spot just under his ribs, Jackson grunted at the pain as he sucked a breath in.  He returned her remorseful gaze with narrowed eyes, and she was afraid that she had really hurt him.

          "No, don't be sorry."

          Gasping at his words, she instinctively took a step back when he neared him, not knowing how to react as he came closer with each step until he was at arms length.

          "Tonight, I won't be accepting apologies from you."

          Hurt by his answer, she shook her head.  "Mr. Jackson, I didn't mean—"

          "I said, I won't accept your apologies.  Not one," his baritone voice boomed throughout the yard, making her step back in fear.  Seeing her reaction, he neared her until he was at arm's length once more from her.  Unable to meet his stern gaze, she looked away and fought the threat of tears escaping her eyes.  

          "Now, hit me."

          Whipping her gaze at his direction, her ears couldn't believe what he just said.  

          "You heard me."

          She looked down on the ground, not knowing if she should obey or run away.  

          "If you don't, I'll be forced to—"

          He held his tongue when she slowly moved backwards, her wraithlike eyes fixed on his as she postured herself into a stance of attack.  At the blink of his eyes, she charged at him with such speed that it almost made him flinch back.  Steeling his muscles, he prepared for the blow and gritted his teeth once more.  The moment he felt contact on his body he instinctively closed his eyes in anticipation of the hit, and when the force wasn't there, he opened his eyes to find her clinging onto him like some lost orphan.  The thought of pushing her away crossed his mind, but after hearing her quiet sobs against his chest, he decided that their sparring session was over. 

          "I'm sorry for being cross, Nakamichi-dono," his deep voice cooed tenderly as he reached for a handkerchief in his pocket.  She answered him with a shake of her head.

          "It's just that… all the years I've guarded you, you have kept all your anger and disappointments inside you like some secret we don't know."

          Sob.

          "It's okay to cry once in a while."

          Tears.

          "You don't have to keep it in all inside you.  It's not healthy."

          Jackson took the handkerchief, briefly pushed her head off his chest and wiped the tracks of tears away from her flushed cheeks.  Gazing down at her, she looked so much like Midori that he had to blink, and when she rested her head against him once more, the quiet words that came out of her mouth jolted him back to reality.

          "I know it's not fair, Mr. Jackson.  I know… but even if I show my anger, my despair, it will get me nowhere.  It won't give me back my parents or my brother and sister.  And now... Uncle Tak…"  she sobbed uncontrollably before continuing.  "I am so afraid of being left alone."

          The guard's features softened and returned her embrace.  "We will always be with you."

          "I know, but… the fabric of my family is coming undone, and I will be the last thread left… I feel so helpless… so useless."

          He gently rubbed against her back, trying to abate her tears.  "You are not useless.  You are strong.  Your uncle is making sure of that."

          She fisted the fabric of his dress shirt.  "Just so I can be alone?"

          "No.  So you can start over."

          At this she sniffed and shut her eyes, tears rolling ceaselessly down her hot face.  "How?"

          "Return to Japan."

          Her eyes opened wide and she momentarily looked up at her brawny guard.  He smiled.

          "A promise is a promise."

          For a moment, she shifted her eyes down to the ground before letting her forehead lean against his chest.  "I miss him so much, Mr. Jackson."

          Understanding her longing, he gently placed his thick hand against her head.  "I know."  Her arms found themselves around him in a tangle behind his muscled back, knowing at that moment what it felt like for her oldest sibling Hideki to console such a forlorn lamb.

          "I wish to hold him… just like this…"

          In the security room, the tender scene played out on the television screen from the security camera mounted by the south lawn.  Behind the panel sat Miller, Fuji and Sakai, their collective breaths held in their chests and exhaled as quiet sighs.  Fuji stirred.

          "Shit, I guess she's just unbelievably unlucky," he said in a low voice, as if afraid of being heard.  "I guess that warrants him letting her kick his ass."

          Miller shook his head.  "I think some people would think that this is just the other side of the coin.  She's obscenely rich, and people would consider that lucky."

          "Money can't buy you family, Miller," answered Sakai who reached for his coffee mug.

          "I didn't say it could, I guess I was just trying to point out that a lot of people out there can't see past riches."

          Fuji took out his pocket knife and began to fiddle with it.  "I don't know about you guys, but I don't want her to end up like this," he said, tracing the knife's edge.  "She's done a lot for my family, for Miller's family, for you and Jackson.  She's putting my little brothers and sisters through the best schools, and my mother doesn't have to ever worry about money."  Finding the edge of the knife sharp to his satisfaction, Fuji put the weapon away.  "Despite Dad being gone, her money makes my family's life easier, and for that, I am willing to do what I can to pay it back."

          After taking a sip of his coffee, Miller nodded.  "Ditto."

          Pausing to think, the older guard stirred.  "I'm glad you brought it up, Fuji, because here's our chance."  From his inner coat pocket, Sakai produced a small piece of paper with several names scribbled on it.  Placing it on the video panel, he unfolded it for the younger guards to see.  

          "These, gentlemen, are our next assignment."

          The two guards looked at each other briefly before looking back at Sakai.  

"When do we leave?"

*********************************************************

          "So when she said, 'Um, I've got a kid', I threw some money at the waiter and ran out of the restaurant as fast I could," a man by the bar said as his buddies around him laughed at his story.  

          Tetsuo rolled his eyes as he cleaned a whiskey glass with a clean cloth.  Replacing the glass on the shelf, he lit a cigarette behind the bar and took in a puff.  He was surrounded by salary men in the busiest city of Japan, waiting for the end of the workday to get wasted.  He thought the proud drunken banter from the loose-tied yuppies was just the lamest.  Taking another drag, he let it all out, took a little bottle of Coke and downed half of its contents.  The group of men were getting louder and irritating more him by the second.  Tetsuo felt like beating them with a baseball bat.

          Counting to ten, the surly bartender leaned back against the counter behind him and watched the tables in front of him.  It wasn't a slow night, but it wasn't packed either.  He glanced at the clock.  Fifteen past ten.  The night was young.

          From the corner of his eye he spied a tall man in a black suit entering the bar.  He looked tired, and his eyes were unfocused and glassy.  As he neared the stadium lights of the bar, the cigarette from Tetsuo's mouth nearly dropped to the ground when he recognized who it was.  The man took the vacant seat furthest away from the group of men Tetsuo wanted to beat up earlier.  Without looking up, he loosened his tie and spoke out loud.

          "A martini, please."

          Tetsuo's brows rose.  The person he least expected to walk through the doors of this bar was ordering a drink he least expected him to have.  He made the drink quietly, observing the lines on the customer's face and that extinguished look in his eyes.  Taking the glass, he took a drink napkin and placed he drink before the distracted man.

          "Here you go, sportsman."

          Mitsui looked up from his blank stare and he couldn't believe what he saw.  "Tetsuo?!"

          The bartender laughed.  "Yes, it's me, you little shit!  You wouldn't even look up!"  The old friends shook hands vigorously over the bar, slapping each other's backs.  

          "It's good to see you, man," Mitsui said.

          Tetsuo laughed.  "Thanks, but it's _not good to see you."  He gave him the once-over.  "Look at you… you're like some dressed up executive piece of sad shit."_

          His customer laughed.  "You're not too pretty yourself," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

          "So what the hell are you doing here in Tokyo?  I'd expected you to be on some basketball team or some gig like that," Tetsuo said, leaning his hands against the bar. 

          "I work here."

          "You do?  You don't by chance happen to work with these guys, do you?" he asked, jerking a thumb over at the noisy mass at the other end of the bar.  

          Mitsui gave them a good look and shook his head.  "No, I don't think so."

          "Good, 'cause they're so fucking annoying, I'm about ready to beat their asses."

          Mitsui grinned.  To this day, Tetsuo's temper and patience never changed.  Still hot-headed, he noticed his friend's eyes narrow at the unlucky group's direction, his thick and calloused fingers tapping against the marble countertop of the bar.  Taking another sip of his drink, he leaned his crossed arms lazily at the bar.

          "So what kind of business do you do around here?" Tetsuo asked as he looked for the bottle opener.  

          "I work at an engineering firm."  

          Tetsuo snickered.  "So you build things?"

          Taking a swig, Mitsui swallowed quickly, the alcohol leaving a hot trail in his throat.  "You got it."

          "It's so funny to hear that from somebody who used to break everything in sight.  Or steal, whichever came first."

          Mitsui shrugged.  "I guess this is payback."

          Both men laughed as a petite woman dressed elegantly in a business suit emerged from what looked like the manager's office.  Approaching them, she called out.

          "Tetsu, have the deliveries arrived yet?" she asked in a sweet, melodic voice.  

          "No, dear, not yet," Tetsuo answered, the brusque quality of his voice instantly changing to a calmer, smoother tone.  Mitsui's eyes nearly jumped out their sockets.  

          // No way… //

          "I'll let you know when they do, okay, sweetie?" the bartender continued, his abrupt change in attitude amusing Mitsui to no end.

          "Thank you, bear," she replied, her smile making Tetsuo grin giddily.  When she disappeared into the manager's room, Mitsui jumped to his questions.

          "Who was that, _bear?" he asked with a teasing laugh.  His biker friend sighed loudly._

          "That, my friend, is the most wonderful woman in the world."

          Mitsui's mouth gaped open at his words; that statement came from the same man who thought that women were just pretty riding accessories to his motorcycle.  He sat silent with disbelief, and Tetsuo was a little embarrassed.

          "Stop that, man.  You look like an idiot."

          "My God… you've really changed!  I would've never thought of you speaking so highly of a woman."

          "Well… I mean, did you get a good look at her?  She's beautiful with brains!"

          "I don't disagree with the 'beautiful' part."

          His friend sighed loudly behind the bar.  "Man, that woman's charms preyed on me, devoured me and spit me back out like I was a fool, and she didn't even know it."

          Mitsui grinned.  "I know the feeling."

          "No shit?  You got a girl, too?"

          Somberly, he shook his head.  "A couple of years back, I did."

          "What the hell happened?  Did she get jealous of your other basketball groupies?" Tetsuo snickered as he drank his Coke.

          "No, nothing like that."

          "Well, what?"

          Mitsui finished his drink in one big gulp before replying.  "She died."

          The mischievous glint in Tetsuo's eyes was snuffed out by the seriousness of his friend's words.  "Oh shit… I'm sorry to hear that, man."

          Letting out a deep breath, Mitsui waved him off.  "Nah, don't be sorry.  It wasn't your fault."

          "I didn't mean to bring it up… I guess it doesn't seem fair that I'm bragging about the love of my life and here I am depressing you."

          Pausing to take in Tetsuo's words, Mitsui cracked a small grin.  "No, I'm happy to hear that you're a changed man."

          Leaning slightly over the bar, Tetsuo lowered his voice.  "You wanna talk about it?  I mean, it might help to get it off your chest."  Before Mitsui could hesitate, the burly bartender took out a bottle of Hennessey and placed it on the marble countertop.  "The good shit's on me tonight."

          Seeing no harm in talking to a friend he hadn't seen in years, Mitsui acquiesced.  

          "Sure, why not…"

*********************************************************

          Sakuragi Hanamichi charged his way to the basketball goal, moving quickly past the man guarding him and appearing as a redheaded blur in his opponents' eyes.

          Slam dunk.

          "You just got owned by the Genius!" he exclaimed triumphantly at an amused Miyagi, the smirk on his face getting wider with each exaggerated swagger of the redhead's step.  Taking the ball and dribbling it, he calmly walked towards the opposite goal, his stride even and sure. He took a moment to glance at the stands.  A handful of people were watching their afternoon practice, Ayako and Haruko among them.  They were eating ice cream on a cone, and seeing his girlfriend lick a melting trail of ice cream on one side of the waffle cone made his insides burn for the need to devour his woman's luscious, ice cream-tainted lips.

          "Hey Ryochin!  The hoop's over here, you snail!" yelled Sakuragi, his arms flailing to get his attention.

          Finally catching his watchful eyes, Ayako acknowledged her boyfriend with a wave of her hand, unaware of his feral musings. 

          "I hope they're vanilla flavored," the point guard unconsciously muttered out loud, making the redhead squint in confusion.

          "What are you talking about?"

          Miyagi blinked and laughed.  "Ah, nothing, forget about it."  And in an instant, he faked a left that Sakuragi fell for and went in through the key for an easy lay-up.  

          "Ryochin!  No fair!" his teammate pouted, whining all the way to the other end of the court as he ran.  

          In the stands, both ladies were laughing.  

          "Hanamichi is such a child!" peeped Ayako through her laughter.

          Haruko agreed.  "He can get really cranky if he doesn't get his way," she added, wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin.  When their amusement died down, her eyes widened at a passing thought.  "Ah, Ayako-senpai, Onii-chan will be coming home this afternoon, he'll have the whole week off."

          "Really?  That's good!  Do you think he'll be up to getting together later?"

          "I'm sure he wouldn't mind, though he's been asking if Mitsui-senpai would also be in town."

          Ayako paused to think.  "Well, Ryota worked out with him a while back… I guess we can give his family a call.  I don't know his cell number, or if he even has one… if nothing else, Ryota can find him."

          "That would be great.  Onii-chan's been asking me to find out for him.  Is Mitsui-senpai doing well?"

          Stilling for a moment, Ayako pursed her lips.  The last time she saw him wasn't different from the time they all hung out after his graduation.  He still maintained that sedate stare, though he would let a small grin escape from time to time.  She sighed, thinking that Mitsui was too young to be subdued by loss.

          "He's slowly getting better," Ayako replied, her tone not so convincing.  _I hope_, she silently added.  The following moments were spent in silence as their eyes followed the players' movements across the court, Coach Miwa yelling out commands for their drills.  Minutes later Ayako's cell phone rang, and she wore a playful grin when she recognized the caller's voice.   

          "Nanami-chan!"

          Towering past the passersby on the sidewalk, Akagi sauntered over to the diner where he agreed to meet the rest of his friends.  He felt a little tired, all the traveling his team did made him long for this time off they were given.  Opening the door to the diner, he smiled at the thought of being able to finally relax for a change.

          Met by a boisterous welcome, Akagi shook hands and gave his old teammates brotherly hugs before taking a seat at the table.  Miyagi was particularly chatty that evening, egging the tall center to tell them tales of his journeys to games.  When asked if the rumor that the team he played for had a clutch of groupies that waited on them hand and foot, Akagi gave Sakuragi a good Gori swat on the head.

          "Idiot."

          Everybody laughed, including the waitress who waited on the group's table.  When their meals arrived at their table, Akagi brought up the shooting guard as he took his utensils in hand.

          "Hey guys, I heard in the news that Mitsui's company just bought a biotech company.  Has anyone heard from him lately?"

          All at the table shook their heads.  

          "Not since two weeks ago," thought Miyagi out loud.  "He was doing all right then.  Gori, you should see him now, man.  He's gotten bulkier from all the weights he's been doing!"

          Akagi's brows raised.  "Really?  I never knew him to be a body building buff."

          After swallowing a morsel of meat, Miyagi shook his head.  "I don't think he's in it to gain muscle mass."

          "Then why does he do it?" asked Sakuragi before shoveling a big piece of pork chop in his mouth.  

          Pausing to drink some of his soda, the point guard wiped his mouth with the dinner napkin before answering.  "I think we all know why."

          A bout of silence hushed the table, and only the sound of cutlery clanging occasionally against the dinner plates could be heard.  After refusing the waitress her offer for refills, Akagi sat back in his seat.  

          "The reason I asked is because I wanted to know if he still has his job," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

          Sakuragi managed to smirk.  "Well, if he's out of a job, he can always play basketball for a team."

          The center nodded.  "That's precisely why I wanted to know," he replied, prompting a small gasp from his little sister.  

          "Did you come here to recruit Mitsui-senpai, Onii-chan?" Haruko asked.

          "Not really… I just wanted to know about his job security.  But, playing pro ball is always a possibility."

          Miyagi mimicked his former teammate's stance.  "Think he'd go for it?"

          Biting his lower lip as he traced the condensation off his glass.  "I honestly don't know."

          A moment of silence passed over them as Sakuragi idly mixed the orange juice in his glass with a straw.  "Well, it doesn't hurt to ask… unless it's Gori you're asking."  And with this, Akagi snuck another signature slap upside his friend's redhead.  

          "Only if you ask dumb questions, moron."

          Haruko's face contorted into a motherly frown.  "Onii-chan, Sakuragi-kun, play nice," she lightly scolded.  Sakuragi's posture quickly changed from a cowering twit to a gung-ho ultra obedient boyfriend.

          "Yes, Haruko-san!" he exclaimed, getting another round of laughs from his friends.  "Hey, what are you laughing at?  Save it for Gori here who has been having a secret affair with Nanami-san!" barked the redhead who immediately clamped his mouth with both of hands at the realization of spilling the beans that Miyagi made him solemnly promise to keep a secret.

          "What?!" exploded Akagi, his annoyance palpable at the roar of his voice.  Stealing a furtive glance at the crimson-cheeked Nanami, the center felt like hiding under the table.  Instead, he cast a furious look at his cringing buddies, Ayako and his sister holding him back before he could pounce at the big mouths.  

"You guys are so dead!"

*********************************************************

          "In the news tonight, former Lexicon Laboratories CEO Douglas Fisher was found dead in his Long Island home yesterday afternoon after a neighbor noticed the front door to Fisher's home open.  Investigators report that Fisher's blood alcohol level exceeded ten times that of the state's blood alcohol limit, leading police to believe that Fisher's death was a suicide through lethal alcohol toxicity.  Pinnacle Engineering held a press conference yesterday morning that announced the downsizing of the biotech company's employees after its acquisition, Lexicon Labs' stock prices taking a twenty-five percent plunge.  And now, a look at the weather."

*********************************************************

          "Let's go, boy," a soft voice called out, prompting an orange and white corgi to follow its master out to the south lawn of the mansion's grounds where an old man sat quietly on a marble bench overlooking the hillside.  He moved his head toward the direction of footsteps on the dew-kissed grass.

          "Hello, young lady," his hoarse voice greeted, eyes staring blankly at the figure approaching.  "You brought a spectator with you."

          "Good morning, Mr. Li," she replied with a small grin.  "Go say hi, boy," she commanded, the dog barking happily at her words before licking her instructor's outstretched hand.  After petting the tame animal, the corgi ran back to its master side.  "Shall we begin my lesson now, Mr. Li?"

          The old man motioned her over to sit beside him on the bench, its smooth surface cold to her touch.  "Sit with me a bit, dear.  My joints aren't as young as yours," he said with a laugh.  The horizon was the clear and pleasing picture of a new day, the trees and foliage welcoming the first rays of the sun.  Reiko wondered if the old man knew of such glory.

          "Early mornings are my favorite time of the day," he commented, his blank eyes gazing in front of them.  "It is the only time when I can see things with my ears untainted by the bang and clatter of man-made machines."

          She nodded in silent agreement as she felt her animal settle beneath her legs, the calmness of their surroundings a transient luxury much appreciated.  And then, a question.

          "What do you see, Mr. Li?"

          "Hm,… birds feeding their fledglings… leaves swaying in the cool morning wind… the sun gradually rising… those kind of things."

          Reiko was awed at the picture his blind eyes painted.  "It seems you notice things I often take for granted."

          Mr. Li shrugged and grinned.  "I only notice them until the telephone rings.  Then it's back to the grindstone of scolding slacking students," he said as his old bones shook with laughter, his hand finding hers and patting it gently.  Feeling a band of metal around her wrist, he stopped and felt for the bracelet that encircled the small wrist, a wondering smile forming across his face.  "I've never noticed this before."

          "This," she paused, regarding the luster of the precious metal, "was given to me as a Christmas present."  Reiko felt her throat constrict at the memory of the present's giver.  She closed her eyes and tried to breathe.

          "It's too early in the morning to sigh," her instructor said as he relinquished her hand, Reiko's brows rising at his sharp ears' perception.  Before she could offer an explanation, Mr. Li spoke again.

          "He gave it to you, didn't he?"  
          Taken aback by his question, she was bewildered at his knowledge despite his lack of sight.  How did he know?  

          "I – I… yes," she stuttered, blinking at her aging instructor.  "But… how did you –"

          "I was informed about him, and the rest I just assumed."

          Silence.

          "Is he waiting for you?"

          She bit her lip.  "I do not know."  Folding her hands, her voice was barely audible.  "My existence has been kept a secret."

          A low grunt.  

          "My bones tell me he is."  

          Shuffling feet.  

          "Do you have any doubt?"

          Pensive probability.

          "Over two years have passed."

          "Are you afraid of getting hurt if you found out otherwise?"

          Hung head.

          "Yes… but hurt is already a part of the life I know… there is no escaping it."

          Another grunt.  

          "I'm sure you didn't always think as you do now."

          Recollection.

          "Life was brighter with him… it felt good to live it."  

          Eyes closed. 

          "I did not have to remind myself to breathe in and out every waking moment."

          A pat of the hand.

          "God can't give you rain every day of your life."

          Mr. Li stood from his seat and clasped his hands behind his back, Reiko's eyes rising to study the tranquil features of his wrinkled face.  "Even Noah got a break after forty days of flood."  Looking down at her dog, Reiko mulled over the old man's hint as he walked with his guide stick into the middle of the lush lawn.  "There is a good chance that the odds will be in your favor."

          Hearing him speak the words she fervently prayed to the heavens for countless nights only to have them unanswered, she beheld the old man with downcast eyes.  Her request had been denied too many times.

          "It is getting more difficult to believe that with each passing day, Mr. Li… the odds have been consistently stacked against me," she replied.  _Since the day I was born_, she bitterly thought.

          "And yet you live despite your congenital condition," the instructor immediately said, the strange grin across his lips perplexing his student.  After a moment of pause, Reiko finally nodded in acquiescence.

          "Yes, indeed… though it has been difficult… my losses have been great."

          Mr. Li took a deep, long breath, his arms stretching outwards slowly and bending back towards him as if to pull a breath into his lungs.  Observed by his student, he motioned for her to do the same.  In quiet obedience she stood an arm's length away from her instructor's side, mimicking his motions and pulling air into her nostrils like a rope. 

          "Focus…"

          A deep breath.  

          "This breath you take in… you take it from everything around you."

          Exhale.

          "Life relies on this breath."

          Inhale.

          "Life permeates through you."

          Exhale.

          "And every thing lives inside you."

          Inhale.

          "Because you live."

          Exhale.  

          "And you've survived this far."

          Mr. Li stood erect and faced his pupil, tucking one forearm behind his back and the other extending out an open palm.  "This will be your last and final lesson, young one.  And for the entirety of this lesson, you will need to focus on the one thing that distributes all this life you breathe in.  You will need to listen to the beating of your very heart."

          Reiko nodded, her grey eyes resting on the old man's calm face, all her senses willed to bluntness save her sight and hearing until she could hear the strong, rhythmic beat in her chest.

          "Life has a rhythm, Reiko, and your heart moves to it.  Your final lesson," the old man said as one of his legs stepped back into stance, "will teach you to move as the blood inside you courses within your veins."

          She nodded, mirroring Mr. Li's stance.

          "Now… listen closely…"

*********************************************************

          Walking down a rather busy street, Mitsui gripped the handle of his briefcase as he swung it in stride with his pace.  Work just let out, and the main avenue was littered with business suited men and women, all scuttling from their offices to their Tokyo homes like worker ants after a day of foraging.  He kept an indifferently unhurried pace, his legs carrying him through crowded crosswalks and even more congested sidewalks.  His mind wandered, the numbers on the blueprints he worked on floating in his thoughts.  He was tired, and yet the will to move was surprisingly pushing one foot ahead of the other until he came across a brightly lit jewelry store, noticeably brighter than those shops beside it.  

          He found himself walking in.

          // _What__ the hell am I doing… //_

          "Welcome, sir," a woman greeted with a bow.  "Is there something I can help you find?"

          Scanning the display cases before him, he shrugged, feeling ridiculous for being there and moving almost as if he was out of his body.  "I… I guess I'm just browsing for now."

          "If you'd like to look at any of our merchandise, please don't hesitate to ask."

          Mitsui nodded at her courteous offer.  // _Might as well do like I said. //  He looked at the watch case, eyeing the price tags of the diamond bezel Rolexes that shone brightly under the stadium lighting.  // _Too___ swanky. //  Glancing quickly at the ring case, his brows raised at the different sizes and colors of diamonds set on gold and platinum.  _

          // _Platinum_… _like Reiko's pendant-- //_

          He blinked, almost shaking his head to avert that all-too-depressing thought from pervading his head.  // _Don't__ even think about it, Hisashi. //  Mitsui stole a glance at the jeweler who was preoccupied with something at the cash register.  He bit his lip and slightly shook his head.  // __I gotta get out of here.//  He turned on his heel and was about to head for the door until a peculiar gleam from one of the cases caught his eye.  Pausing to look at the display case that housed the shining piece, his breath caught in his throat as he laid his eyes on a brilliant gem of intense blue color, its hue hauntingly striking and reminiscent of vibrant life behind her eyes.  In the moments that followed, he was lost in a deluge of memories, memories of her, the smile that came with those glowing pools of cerulean eyes and the dreams he promised to keep.  _

          _My one request... please don't forget me..._

          He unknowingly stepped back, his eyes fixed sadly at the gleaming rock, its blue intensity making him smile bitterly.  // _You__ don't know how difficult it is for me to refuse that request... //_

          "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

          Jolted by the saleslady's question, he jerked his head up and gave her an uneasy smile.  "Yes, it is."

          "Would you like to see it?"

          Mitsui held one hand up and slightly shook it in protest.  "That's okay—"

          The woman took it out anyway and snuck him a funny smile.  "It doesn't cost a thing to look.  And besides, it'll give me something to do."  Holding the precious stone under one of the stadium lights, she removed the stone from its velvet case and showed his reluctantly dazed customer.

          "This is a blue diamond on a platinum setting.  In my opinion, it is the most beautiful stone we have here in the store.  Notice the clarity of the rock and the deepness of its blue color as you look at the rock from the outer sides in."

          Mitsui was amazed at how much better the diamond looked under the light, his mouth slightly gaping at its magnificence.

          "Here, I want you to look at something."  The saleslady took out a diamond that was sitting beside the blue one on the display case and place it just above the corner of her shirt collar.  "This is also a blue diamond, but I want you to tell me the difference between this," she said, allowing the light to shine on the diamond she was currently holding, and putting it down after Mitsui had taken a good look at it.  "And now this," she added, holding up the blue diamond to the same spot on her collar and grinning at the reaction on her customer's face.  

          Mitsui couldn't believe his eyes as he studied the color within the stone, its hue changing vividly before his eyes like the rippling and undulating waves of water, nothing like what he had seen in the other diamond she showed him.  "How—how does it do that?"

          The lady laughed.  "Believe me, it's not a trick.  It has something to do with the way the stone was cut and the number of facets that are within the stone, so that when light shines against it, the light seems even brighter within the stone itself."

          Still awed, Mitsui watched her place the diamond back in its velvet case.  "And how much does that one cost?"

          "Well, fabulous diamonds come with a fabulous price, as you can imagine.  This one's half a carat, and it's roughly in the range of three million yen."

          Her customer reeled at the price, and she in turn rolled her eyes and laughed in agreement.  "I know, it's like selling your kidney," she said, replacing the gem back in the display case.  "You know, you looked pretty dazed a few minutes ago.  Are you feeling all right?"

          // _Crap, she _did_ see me... //  _

          "I was just thinking of someone."

          She grinned expectantly.  "Someone you love?"

          Mitsui forgot that the person before her was in the business of selling jewelry, and asking about a significant other is just another reason to pitch her sale.  After letting out a quiet sigh, he resigned to answering her question.  After all, she was just a jeweler.  

          "Yes."

          Her face suddenly became lively, as if gossiping with one of her girlfriends.  "Well," she said, sliding the display case's door shut, "if you ever need any help with finding that special someone some jewelry, I would be more than happy to help."  Handing him the store's business card, Mitsui looked at the name etched on the card.  Surprised that she didn't force him to look at anything else, he took it as an exit cue and left the store, joining the many on the sidewalk hurrying home.

          After mindlessly eating a meal he prepared himself, Mitsui left the dishes in the sink, ran some water over them and leaned over the sink as he watched the water flow over the dinner bowl and chopsticks and into the drain.  It's been over two years, and he still felt empty.  Shutting off the water, he turned on the television and some footage of several bodies with white drapes over them was shown, police officers walking about with flashlights.  He smirked, asking himself why he turned on something that would depress him even more, wondering why he left the television on.  For some noise, he answered silently.

          Mitsui walked over to his suitcase and took out the blueprints he was working on back at the office, wanting to finish the project assigned to him.  // _Stay busy..._ //  Unable to find his pen, he abandoned the suitcase and fished in his coat pocket for the writing instrument, grabbing the pen and the card he was given at the jewelry store along with it.  Seeing the store's name across the card made him purse his dry lips, closing his tired eyes as his mind recalled the intensity of the blue diamond, its color holding the same azure fire as those in Reiko's vibrant eyes.  

          Suddenly, he crumpled the business card in his shaking fist, throwing the crushed piece with all his might at the wall in an attempt to hurl the distressing memories out of his mind with it.  // _God, why won't she leave me alone?! //  His breathing labored, he stormed into his bedroom and headed straight for the top drawer of his clothes chest.  Digging through piles of neatly folded shirts, he tossed each one of them over his shoulder until he found the shiny necklace she had given him just moments before she disappeared into oblivion, stowed away at the bottom of the drawer and never to be seen again.  Brows furrowed in frustration, he made no move to remove the article, rather stared at it as if wanting to melt it with the anger and heat in his eyes, his heart racing in fury.  // _It's not supposed to be like this! _//_

          He swiped the necklace angrily into his hand and marched through the living room, slid the glass door open and stepped onto the balcony in a mad rage, his hand crushing the metal band into his palm.  He was tired of it, tired of yearning for her in his dreams, in every straying thought, in every moment he had alone.  He hated being alone, and had she stayed, he wouldn't be so miserably unhappy right now.  His body wound up to throw the necklace off the balcony, the muscles of his arm and shoulder contracting as he readied himself to catapult the damned thing as far as his strength would let him.  At the last instant he ceased to move, his pitching arm frozen, the metal texture of the necklace still in his grasp.  

          He lost count on how many times he had tried to throw away the only tangible thing she left behind.

          _My one request... please don't forget me..._

          Her voice echoed in his mind every time, during any attempt to rid himself of his longing, of the identical prayers uttered for him to wake up from this living nightmare and hold her once again, of the tears that would roll down his chiseled jaw on nights when he couldn't bear it anymore.  

          This was one of them.

          He lowered his arm, pent up frustrations erupting as sobs and tears running down his burning cheeks.  // _No more... //  He sank in one of the chairs on the balcony, his form slowly crumpling into the shaking, weeping silhouette of a man defeated by haunting dreams of a beautiful, dead woman.  It had been over two years, and yet she still lingered in his heart like a wish unfulfilled, and her absence left a bitter taste in his mouth each time he recalled how she died.  _

          "Why did you leave me alone?" he mumbled into his hands, his bowed head shaking slowly as his tears escaped from his eyes and splattered onto the cold patio tiles.  He allowed himself to weep, waiting for the solace he so wanted to come but would not, and he knew that time would inevitably dam up the flow of his tears temporarily until some irrepressible memory of her overwhelms him once more and opens the floodgates again.  He cursed the fact that his brain could remember so much that it couldn't forget things that hurt even if he wanted to, and Mitsui felt like he was losing his mind.  

          An hour went by and his tears had dried, shuddering from time to time as he sat there staring at the evening sky.  And once again, like so many other nights as this, he couldn't stand the silence that allowed him to hear every breath out of his nostrils, the awareness of that gaping hole of solitude inside him unbearable.  Running a hand through his hair, he stood and went to his bedroom and began to change his clothing, tossing the necklace onto his dresser.  He decided that sulking wasn't going to get him anywhere.  Moving his feet would, and he needed to go somewhere where he could take his mind off things.  Off of her.  Donning a casual shirt and a pair of khakis, Mitsui grabbed his keys, locked the door and left.  As he keyed his car's engine to life, he headed for the one place in Tokyo where he could forget about her and his pitiful weeping. 

*********************************************************

          Before four men wearing dress shirts, ties and white lab coats sat a hunched, emaciated man in a wheel chair, his arm punctured with an IV needle that connected to a suspended plastic bag of fluid.  He grinned slightly at the men sitting across the conference room, his exophthalmic eyes glancing briefly at their reports neatly filed in leather binders.  The room was kept cold, and the hunched man was draped with a blanket.  

          "Go ahead and give me your report."

          The four across him looked at each other and the farthest to the left spoke.

          "With the new substrate mix and the adjustments to the current that you instructed us to make, the amount of time it takes from clear to rose red point has marginally decreased.  Furthermore, investigation of her brain waves reveals an increase in alpha and theta brain wave activity, with gamma rhythms of forty Hertz transient responses increasing with increased concentration on certain motor skills."

          The speaker paused to look at his superior's face, his eyes closed the whole time the report was given.  

          "Sir, are you all right?"

          He opened his eyes slowly and exhaled.

          "I am in a great deal of pain.  Please don't mind me and continue with your report."

          "Very well, sir."  Flipping over a few pages of data in the binder, the man continued.  "The test results for the past three weeks have been the best we've gotten so far, with a seventy percent increase in the efficacy of substrate exchange.  Mental status is unchanged with the exception of the increased brain wave activity I have mentioned earlier.  Her pulse rate and blood pressure were in the normal high range for someone who has been exercising right before the immersion, and no significant changes in body temperature were observed.  All other systems were normal."  

          The man in the wheelchair grunted in approval.  

          "It seems that Mr. Li has once again proved his usefulness in conditioning my niece."

          Cough.

          Wince.

          "I have one more factor we need to explore, gentlemen.  It's a matter of nerves."

          The four white coated men looked at each other in inquiry and looked ahead at their superior in curiosity.  

          "We are listening, Dr. Nakamichi..."

*********************************************************

          "... and then... poof!  Juz' like that, and she's gone..." 

          Mitsui could barely prop his inebriated self up on his elbows against the marble countertop of Tetsuo's bar.  He had been drinking the moment he arrived at the bar, one shot and martini after the other.  Tetsuo shook his head.  He knew his friend's problem wasn't something alcohol could cure.  Mitsui's attempt to sit up straight ended in fumbling failure as he caught himself clumsily with his head resting on the bar, the words leaving his mouth an unintelligible slur.  

          "Mitsui, I oughtta take pictures of you while you're drunk.  You look like a damn retard," Tetsuo said with a laugh as he dried a washed whiskey glass with a dishcloth.  

          "Oh yeah?" his friend spat out with a cocky grin that made Tetsuo rethink of Mitsui's age.  "Wazzat s'posed to mean?  I'm a very good-lookin' drunk!  Check diz out... hey, missy!" he called out to the scantily clad figure sitting at the other end of the bar.  "You think I'm fine or what?"

          The person giggled before answering.  "You're just my type, handsome!"

          Mitsui gave Tetsuo this drunken grin that irked the bartender as he placed the dried whiskey glasses back on the rack.  "Seeee that?"

          Tetsuo rolled his eyes before lighting a cigarette.  "Well, since you think you're still prime grade, why don't you go and look for other chicks?"  He was answered with the thud of Mitsui's head on the marble bar.  

          "Shiiet... every time I look at another woman... iz not tha same thing."

          Tetsuo tossed a bunch of peanuts onto a little plate and placed it between him and Mitsui on the bar.  Taking a drag, he blew the smoke away from their corner before speaking.  "What thing?"

          Mitsui looked at the bartender with hazy eyes.  "Ya know... that 'thing'... makes you all warm fuzzy-like an' shit..."

          "So in other words, you're going to consider yourself ruined because she's dead?"

          Picking up his head and pillowing it with his forearm, Mitsui slowly rolled his forehead left and right.  "Yup, yup,... I'm fuckin' ruined... damn it! Gimme another swig, Tessuo... and don't take _all year like you did last time."_

          The bartender snickered as he poured more vodka for his friend.  "Whatever, you lame lush.  No more drinks for you after this, so enjoy it while you can, or _if you can."  Tossing a few more peanuts into his mouth, Tetsuo's eyes scanned the crowd, the entrance and the manager's office door, and finally fell on the back of Mitsui's lollygagging head.  Slightly irritated at his friend's drunken stupor, he left the bar momentarily sat next to his friend.  "Mitsui, you don't know how many assholes come in here with the same my-girl-left-me-and-the-dog-did-too singsong shit, and I'm the captive bartender who has to play shrink until they pass out.  But you know what?  This important shit I'm gonna tell you I tell you as a friend, so listen up.  You can't do a damn thing about that Reiko girl.  She's six feet under, man, and it's going to stay that way until God resurrects her from the dead.  And how many times have you seen that happen?  Zero.  And the stuff in the bible don't count 'cause we weren't born yet."_

          Guzzling his drink in one gulp, Mitsui wiped the corner of his mouth with the edge of his hand as he felt the burn of the alcohol's path into his gut.  A few seconds later, he shot straight up in his seat and raised his right arm as if to declare some colossal enlightenment that accidentally settled in his head.  "That's absolutely right!  All I need now is a miracle!  A fucking miracle!"

          Growling with annoyance, Tetsuo yanked Mitsui back to his seat and sucked a drag of smoke before blowing it on his friend's face, making his smashed face contort with a cough.  

          "Tessuo... I think a car just crashed here, man.  I can smell tha fumes..."

          The bartender began to feel for Mitsui's car keys in his pockets, and a ticklish giggle erupted from the drunk's throat.  "Say, woman!  Not right now, I'm talking to my friend!"  Finally finding the keys, he ripped them out of his friend's pocket and stuffed in his own.  Grinning at him like a Cheshire cat, Mitsui let out a hiccup.

          "Hey Tessuo... I think that lady at da udder end of da bar wuz feelin' me up juz' now... she really digs me!"

          Finishing his cigarette, Tetsuo put its embers out in the ashtray nearby.  Smirking at his friend who drank like a fish just an hour ago, he leaned closer to Mitsui's ear.  "You're so fucking wasted, Mitsui.  You didn't even notice that the 'lady' you asked to check you out is one of my girl's transvestite friends.  So congratulations, pal.  Your muscled Mary just bought you a drink."

          Tetsuo's words didn't sink in until a few moments before Mitsui passed out on the bar, his final comment before his lights went out was a resounding "Shit..."

          Seeing his friend dozing quietly on his bar, Tetsuo poured himself a drink.  "I guess you won't need this," he said, swallowing the whole shot in one gulp.  

*********************************************************

          "Hello there."

          Wheeze.

          "Come sit over here, I have something important to tell you."

          Compliance.

          Coughing fit.

          "You must be wondering why I'm subjected you through all these tests for so long."

          A shrug.

          "For efficacy?"

          Dissent.

          "For perfection."

          Cough.

          "You are and will be the only living proof of our family's genius.  You have all our strengths and none of our weaknesses."

          "That is not true, Uncle Tak.  You are the genius of the family.  My existence is proof of that."

          "Though your comment is flattering, I won't be around much longer to be smug about it."

          Silence.

          Tears.

          "I'm awfully sorry for putting you through this.  I take full responsibility for your anguish... please forgive me."

          "Why do you always ask for forgiveness?  You did not do anything wrong."

          "Oh but I have, dear.  I have."

          Confusion.

          Frustration.

          "Please put it out of your mind, whatever it is that is bothering you.  I find no fault in you keeping me alive."

          A hiss.

          "I am just afraid that you would blame me for leaving you."

          Sob.

          "Why would I?  You did not choose to be in this condition."

          "And neither did you."

          Surprise.

          "None of this is your fault.  Please understand that."

          Wheeze.

          "I suppose I just feel guilty... for all the times I couldn't be with you... for letting you talk me into staying here and running the hospital."

          Forced smile.

          "You are a physician, it is what you were trained to do."

          "At the expense of my niece?"

          A sniff.

          "You probably could not make my peers understand me that way you do even if you were with me."

          "I know of one who does."

          Knowing silence.

          "I just wanted to protect your happiness."

          Sob.

          "You are."

          "So why are you crying?"

          Teary laugh.

          "Because you and I are of a stubborn lot... and because... I will miss you... so very much..."

          Pain.

          Inhalation.

          "I... I just wanted to tell you..."

          Wheeze.

          "... that I love you very much..."

          Rales.

          "... like the child I never had..."

          Cough.

          "...Uncle loves you very much..."

          Bradycardia.

          Incessant tears.

          "Rei loves you, too, Uncle Tak."

          A final, grateful smile.

          Flatline.

*********************************************************

          Squatting down beside a moving van with his eyes glued to the newspaper, Sakuragi Hanamichi's brows furrowed at the words across the page.  _Today's horoscope: your patience will pay off in helping a friend._

          "Hanamichi, get off your ass and lend me a hand!" huffed Yohei as he carried a heavy speaker into the van.  

          "Hold on man, I'm trying to broaden my friggin' horizons here!" he spat back, eyes still fixed at the horoscope column.

          "The only thing that's gonna broaden is your ass after I kick it.  And stand up, goof. You look like you're taking a dump."

          "What're you talking about?  Can't you see I'm trying to stay abreast with current events?!  Look here, it says 'Two men found dead in a car outside Kyoto'," he read out loud as a child reading out loud in class.  

          "Just help me carry this shit out and I'll give you a chicken breast to go with the curry lunch I'm gonna buy you, now earn your keep!"

          Grumbling, the redhead followed Yohei into the nightclub and carried out several more speakers out to the van.  Placing all the wires into a neat loop, they made sure that no other equipment was left behind.  Seeing that they've taken everything, Yohei told Sakuragi to shut the doors.  Piling into the vehicle, they drove off, Yohei silently contemplating where his next gig will be.  

          "You did all right at last night's gig, right?" asked his best friend, his propped elbow supporting his chin.

          "Yeah, but it was a little slow, and there weren't enough people to enjoy my tunes."

          Yohei turned right at the next corner and grimaced at the thought of money.  The club scene had been slow with the downside economy, and he was barely able to pay his bill every month.  He didn't want to think about the money he still owed the credit card company that paid for all his audio equipment.  He considered getting another job on top of the music store and his club gigs.  

          Sakuragi grinned.  "It's a weeknight.  I'm not surprised."  Looking out the window, the redhead's eyes perked up.  "Hey, what about that CD you recorded in the studio?  You oughta be makin' millions by now!"

          "It's just a remix I did, it's not that big of a deal.  I'm just a DJ, and we don't make much money," he answered nonchalantly, and then added, "well, at least this DJ doesn't."

          With effervescent encouragement beaming from his face, Sakuragi slapped his friend's shoulder that made the van swerve.  "Don't worry about it, man!  Listen, I read your horoscope and it says here that you're gonna run into somebody with dough."

          Feeling patronized for a free meal, Yohei sighed and smirked at his friend.  "You don't say?"

          "Ha!  I'm tellin' you, this Genius is _never_ wrong."

          Sighing out loud, Yohei rolled his eyes as his voice flattened into an indifferent tone.  

          "Fantabulous."

          The club was jumping with people moving to the bass beat blaring from the speakers on the dance floor.  DJ Yohei was thrilled.  Out of the blue a large group of people had packed the club in, some of them already wasted on the dance floor, others juggling glow sticks to the sultry siren melodies his turntables were spinning out.  He played the more popular house music that made people cheer with shouts for more, and hearing so made Yohei all the more intoxicated with the enjoyment of his clamoring constituents.  Behind the turntables, he ruled the beat that shook people with a natural high. 

          Right next to a large glass tip jar were small square pieces of paper and several pencils used by the patrons to give their song requests.  Mixing the songs in order of the requests written, he came across one note that read, '_Hello, stranger_' on it.  Looking up from the turntables, he scanned the crowd for a familiar face.  It must be Sakuragi and the others again, he thought.  Placing a hand on the right headphone against his ear, he continued to look through the darkness of the club with only transient shafts of blue, red and yellow lights illuminating the unknown faces in the crowd.  Ignoring the note, he nodded to the beat of the music as he flipped through one of his CD holders, spying a note stuck to one of the CDs in the holder, particularly the one he just recently recorded.  Looking up and around him once more, he was getting a little goaded by the prank he thought the gundan was playing on him.  Taking the note, he squinted as he tried to read it under the strobe lights.  

          _At the bar, in the business suit.__  Interested in a business proposition?_

          Yohei immediately swung his gaze up to the bar, and as the note had described, a man in a business suit stood by the bar with a drink in one hand and the other acknowledging his glance with a small salute.  Pursing his lips at the thought that he may be some sex-starved gay barfly, he looked at the note and the man again.  Seeing him look around him with an air of cool detachment plucked his instincts to the strings of 'no'.

          The deejay smirked.  With the club jumping unexpectedly on a weeknight, he didn't think matters could get any stranger.

          'Things are getting more interesting by the minute,' he thought as he placed the CD that had the note onto the carousel.  Taking off the headphones, he slowly weaved his way through the dancing bodies and approached the suited gentleman.  Who knew?  Maybe he was a music producer.

          Ordering a blue Hawaiian drink before turning to the man next to him, Yohei took the note and waved it before the man's face.  "So what's this all about?" he asked before taking the drink the bartender handed him.  

          "Well, it's what you make it out to be."

          Leaning against the bar and stirring his drink with a shake of the glass, the deejay laughed.  "You're not trying to pick me up, are you?  Because you missed the gay bar by about a block down the street," he said, remarking the man's jet black attire.

          The suited man shook his head with a smile.  "What I have to offer you isn't back door lovin'."  Taking a sip of his own drink, the man reached into the inside pocket of his coat and produced a thick envelope which he slid towards Yohei on the bar.  "I was wondering if you'd be interested in letting that talent of yours participate in an experiment."

          Eyeing the envelope with curiosity, the deejay left the offering untouched.  "Let's hear it first."

          "All right," he said as he caught the bartender's attention.  After ordering another drink, he reached for his wallet and took out a business card.  "All you have to do is show up at this address a week from now with this music you're playing, equipment and everything," he instructed as he pointed to the speakers around the dance floor.  "Electricity will be provided."  Handing it to Yohei, he thanked the bartender for the drink and took a long sip, all the while Yohei studied the name and address on the card.  "My mobile is on the back of that card. Should you back out, give me a call.  I'll find another willing deejay."

          "Wait a minute," protested Yohei.  "How do you know I'm going to take this job?"

          "Because you need the money."

          Yohei was silenced with his words.  _Damn, how'd he know that?  He frowned in annoyance._

          "Why don't you take a look inside that envelope?" the man advised while taking a good look at the dancing women in the crowd.

          Finally satisfying his curiosity, Yohei took a peek inside the envelope, revealing a stack of crisp 100,000 yen bills that made his eyes bug out and his jaw drop in disbelief.  Whipping his head up at the calm man, he tried to move his mouth to voice his skepticism when the suited man interrupted.

          "Time is very important, Mr. DJ, and time is money.  I don't need your answer right now, and the contents of that envelope are for the precious minutes you're spending away from your turntable throne to talk to me.  A mere consultation fee, if you may.  Regardless of your answer, you get to keep it.  But should you show up to that address I gave you, the contents of the next envelope I will give you will be triple that of what you hold in your hand.  All I ask is that you call if you don't plan on showing up."

          A minute passed by with only the lively chatter of the club patrons and the bass booming over the dance floor filling the silence between the two men.  Yohei scrutinized the business card once more.  What could he possibly have to offer that an egghead would want for an experiment?  _Who the hell is this guy, anyway?  Looking at the man beside him, he began to have a strange feeling he had seen this person before.  _

          "Have we met be—"

          "I have to go now," he said, cutting off Yohei's train of thought.  "Thanks for your time.  It's all up to you whether you make more money or not," he added before downing the rest of his drink.  Setting the glass down, the man dug his hands in his pockets and smirked at the deejay's direction.  "We hope to see you a week from now, Mito-san."

          Dumbfounded, Yohei was left staring at the back of the suited man walking away from the bar.  

          "Wait!" he called out as he stood from his seat on the barstool.  "Why me, of all deejays?"

          Glancing back at him, the man loudly answered, "Because you know the right people."  

          And with that, he strode out of Yohei's sight, leaving the befuddled deejay to wonder how any man in a business suit would know his name.  

          Author's Note:  

          Thank you all so very much for your patience. 


	22. Chapter 22 first half

Mitsui bolted up from his slumber with a scream, his breathing ragged as his chest heaved up and down rapidly for air. Leaning on one elbow, he winced at the headache that radiated from the back of his head into the back of his eyes. Squinting at his dark surroundings, he found himself back in his apartment, his shoes scattered across the floor and his jacket flung on the back of a chair. Gritting his teeth at the pain that pounded throughout his head, he glanced at the clock on the night stand.

Four-thirty.

Deciding to get out of bed, he stumbled on his shoes on his way to bathroom as he fumbled to turn on the light. Taking a leak, he flushed the toilet when he was finished and looked at himself at the mirror, only to find a note stuck on its surface, the handwriting messy and stained with cigarette ash.

_Mitsui—_

_You are one heavy son-of-a-!#$ ! Parked your car on the street. Keys are on the nightstand. You're a lousy drunk. Your transvestite boyfriend wants your number ♥. Should I give it to him? Later._

_--Tetsuo_

_Transvestite boyfriend?! _

Mitsui stood by the sink with his eyes wide and mouth gaping at the sloppy note. He couldn't remember anything past Tetsuo's rave, something about six feet under and forgetting. Smirking as he read the note again, he crumpled it after reading 'transvestite boyfriend' and tossed it in the garbage can. _Tetsuo's going to have a lot of fun blackmailing me... _Opening the medicine cabinet, he reached for the aspirin bottle as he winced at his headache once more, cursing himself for not being able to handle his liquor. After popping a couple of pills, he drank some water and rinsed his face. Looking at the mirror, he took a good long look; the inertia in his eyes and the jaded look behind his stare reminded him of all the things he had seen; it aged him. And that nightmare he just had... gray shadows from which he fled, the snarling, growling sounds of a dog whose rabid jaws nipped at his heels as he ran away into a foggy clearing, and just when it seemed like he had eluded his pursuers, he was engulfed inside a stalking shadow and pushed off a lofty height, the sensation of falling and screaming at the top of his lungs as he fell...

Mitsui slowly shook his head and toweled his face dry. He knew he had to stop worrying about things he couldn't control and pining over someone he would never see again because it only hardened his heart and he wasn't getting any younger. He still loved her even after all this time, and yet he knew that she was now a permanent resident of his dreams and will remain there for the years to come. Replacing the towel on the rack, he paused to think of what to do next. If he was to go back to sleep, he might see her again in his dreams, and though it was something he really wished for, its repercussions would only leave him in want.

_I need to stop this madness... _

Walking into his bedroom, he sat quietly at the edge of his bed, looking at green reflection of the alarm clock's light off the keys on top of his nightstand. Mindlessly reaching for them, he fiddled with them as he shifted his eyes to the corner closest to him where a familiar burnt orange sphere lay, collecting dust from disuse.

He made his decision.

Quickly throwing on workout clothes, he carried the ball in one hand and placed his cell phone in his pocket with the other and rushed out of his apartment.

Finding the car where Tetsuo left it, he started the engine and drove off, not knowing where he could find a lit court at this time and caring less if he was to miss work. _I work too hard anyway._ Mitsui drove for several minutes until he ventured into the suburbs north of the city, a small grin forming across his lips at the sight of his sought destination, the basketball goal naked without a net and lonely under a single halogen limelight. Parking the car, he took out the basketball and walked to the free throw line, its paint faint and scuffed from play. Throwing a glance around him, he dribbled the ball a few times and wondered if he still had it. Holding the ball in both hands, he recoiled himself, took aim and shot.

In.

A little relieved and amused at the same time, he backed up to the three-point line, eyeing the basket as his hand pushed to dribble the ball. Letting out a deep breath, he stilled, took aim once more and shot.

In.

Another point from the arc.

Aim.

Shoot.

In.

He continued to throw shots along the arc of the three-point line, his eyes never leaving the basket, his limbs shifting to feel the rhythm of the dribble and the weight of the ball once more, a dance he chose to forget now recalled with instinctive precision. And with each successful shot, he felt a wave of release that left him feeling lighter, careless, and yet sure-footed, a sensation he had long missed and nearly forgotten with each passing day.

Retrieving the ball after a shot, he tucked the ball between his arm and hip and paused pensively, little beads of perspiration forming on his brow.

This is what he needed, he thought, a small smile tugging at his lips, his eyes closed. Even before his heart was broken, before he turned sour and joined a gang, Mitsui had this burnt orange ball, an empty court and a lot of determination.

He had basketball.

Regardless of his loss and disappointments, he had a skill in a sport that could always place him above of it all. There was no use of running away from his emotional plight; all it did was just make him a better runner. In his mind was a mental game, and there was no need to run. Instead, he needed to shift all his energies into a single focus rather than waste it on unproductive yearning that just drowned him in a pool of stagnant emotion. His focus would be making this ball go through that hoop; it would be utilitarian and would consume all his physical energy, erode the lifelessness in his spirit and polish it with a different outlook that would leave no regretful hindsight.

Taking the basketball once more in his hands, he threw another shot that made it smoothly through the hoop, the ball bouncing off the court a few times without Mitsui making any motion to retrieve it. He still had it, and it felt good to know it.

_It'll get better... one basket at a time..._

This may just be his deliverance from this emotional infirmity called Reiko.

* * *

Waking up to the irregular rapping that came from his bedroom window, Sakuragi sat up and rubbed his sleepy eyes, his brows furrowed in irritation. Squinting, he glanced at the window and groaned at the sight of the dark horizon, the sky still dark and beaded with stars. Extremely annoyed at waking before sunrise, he fell back into bed and reached for the covers, his back turning away from the window and lips cursing the neighbors' cats.

When several louder taps came from the window, the redhead kicked the covers and glared at the window, nearly throwing the alarm clock through it. Growling, he neared the window sill and slid the window up.

There, with a handful of pebbles, stood Yohei in the front yard. Finding an eraser on his desk, Sakuragi threw it down at his friend.

"Shit, what the hell was that for?!" Yohei hissed, his voice guarded and barely above a whisper.

"For waking me up, you butthole! What's the idea of waking me up before sunrise?! Geniuses need their friggin' sleep!" the redhead spat.

"Give me a break, Sakuragi!" murmured Yohei as he cast a momentary glance at the pebbles in his hand before looking up at his friend. "I need your help, man."

Concern replaced irritation as the redhead's eyes opened wide with fear. "Oh shit..." Quickly looking around him, Sakuragi grabbed the sheets off his bed, tied them end to end and threw them over the window sill. "Here, grab this."

A look of incredulity crossed Yohei's face. "What do you want me to do with that?"

"To climb up here, you moron! Now get to it!"

His voice grew flat as he retorted, "Wouldn't it just be easier if you opened the front door for me?"

"My mom will kick my ass if she knew I let a friend in at this time, so just shut up and climb!"

Throwing his hands up in resignation, the DJ jumped up and took a handful of the sheets, slowly making his way up to his friend's room, his breath ragged as he stepped onto the floor. He was good at the occasional fist fight but climbing through people windows was something he did not train for. Quietly settling into Sakuragi's desk chair, Yohei mumbled a word of thanks at his friend. Sitting on the corner of his bed, the redhead studied the look of worry and confusion on his friend's face. A few seconds of silence passed between them before Sakuragi spoke.

"Did you kill somebody?"

Yohei was revolted by the suggestion. "No! What in the hell made you think that?"

"Well," Sakuragi said as he lay back on the bed, his arms folded to cradle his head, "the last time you threw little rocks at my window was when we were in high school and you beat the shit out of some faceless punk, and you came here to hide from the cops. But that last time you didn't come so early in the morning, so I'm assuming you're in much deeper shit than before."

"It's nothing like that, Sakuragi." The redhead watched as Yohei fished his pocket and threw it onto his chest. "It's about this."

Taking the envelope on his chest, he opened it and yanked out its contents, his eyes nearly flying out of their sockets as he held the stack of cash in his hand. "Good Lord, it's worse than I thought! You robbed a bank!"

Yohei smacked his friend upside his head. "That's not it!"

Clutching his head, Sakuragi spoke through gritted teeth. "Then just spit it out and tell me already, damn it!"

Regaining some of his composure, Yohei took a deep breath in. "You know that club I DJ for in Tokyo?"

"Yeah, the one a block away from that gay bar."

The DJ let out an exasperated groan. "Why does everyone know that place by that gay bar? Well, anyway, forget about that. Last night, some guy in a suit came to me and gave me that envelope full of money."

"Shit, is he yakuza?"

"Don't think so, he still has all his fingers," Yohei replied, wriggling all fingers in one hand. "He asked me if I was interested in a 'business proposition'."

"What's that about?" the redhead prodded, resting his head on a propped hand.

"All I gotta do is show up to this address he gave me on a business card with all my equipment and everything, and get this, even if I don't show up, I still get to keep the money."

"And if you _do_ show up?"

Yohei leaned back in his seat. "I'll get triple what you hold in your hand."

Sakuragi's eyes bugged out once more as he bolted out of bed. "Holy shit! That's awesome!"

"I know, I know... but, Sakuragi... it kind of gives me the creeps, man... what guy in a suit would know about me? And how the hell did he know that I just recorded a CD?"

"What?"

"He left this post-it note on the CD I just recorded that was _in my_ CD holder. It's like he's been scoping me out and digging through my stuff!"

The redhead pursed his lips in thought. "And you don't know this guy at all?"

"That's another scary thing... I feel like I've seen him before."

"Well, have you?"

"It's hard to say... it's so dim in the club, all I can see are shadows on faces." Rubbing his tired brow, Yohei let his head drop back, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. "He's... he's like a ghost or something. Plus the fact that the horoscope you read me was true has got me wigged out. Are you sure you read the right one?"

"Sure, I'm sure! Geniuses rarely make mistakes!" the redhead proclaimed, prompting Yohei to shush him quiet. "But never mind that. Do you have any idea why the suit wants you to work for him?"

Yohei shrugged. "Not really... he said he wanted me to participate in some 'experiment'. Don't know what that's about, but man, all that money is enough to pay for all my audio equipment and then some."

"Then what are you so worried about? Just do the job, take the money, and be happy."

"Oh, and speaking of money, this guy knew about my finances, Hanamichi. What the hell is that... he goes through my stuff, knows about the zero yen I got in the bank, tells me to show up to some place I never heard of—"

"Where is it?" Sakuragi asked, now sitting on the edge of his bed. Yohei took out the business card from his wallet and handed it to his friend, the redhead's eyes poring over the embossed letters on the card. After a quiet minute passed, Sakuragi gave it back to Yohei. "When are you supposed to go to this place?"

"A week from last night," he answered, stuffing the card back into his wallet.

"When you head out there, stop by my place and pick me up. I'll go with you."

"What about basketball practice?"

"That'll be over before dinnertime, don't worry about it. I don't want you to go to some freak show alone."

Yohei smiled at this point. "In that case, we wouldn't have to go at all since you're already a freak show of your own." The comment earned him a pillow whack on his face. "I was just kidding!"

Sakuragi smirked. "Yeah? If that suit lays a hand on you, don't expect me to get your back. I might just help him beat your ass."

Both men laughed softly at each other as the sun's rays crept across the horizon and through the open window, the DJ quietly thanking his best friend.

* * *

Completely drenched in sweat, Mitsui took his shirt off and wrung it with his hands, the sweat that soaked the fabric dripping onto the concrete court. Spreading it out onto a bench, he took a seat and grabbed a water bottle he took from the car during a break, taking several gulps and finally emptying its contents over his head.

He was exhausted.

Letting the water mingled with sweat drip down his face, he shook his head like a wet dog, picked up his belongings and returned to his vehicle. Popping the trunk open, Mitsui threw the ball in and opened his gym bag, hoping that he still had a clean shirt that he hadn't used during his lifting workouts with Miyagi. Finding one, he smiled in relief and wore it, grabbing a workout towel and drying himself with it. Tossing all the soiled articles in the trunk, he glanced at his watch.

Five-thirty.

_If I'm going to take the day off, I might as well do some laundry._

And what better place to do it than at home in Kanagawa?

Taking his cell phone, he dialed a number that connected to his office, a recording of an old secretary's smooth voice answered, kindly asking him to leave a message at the beep.

"This is Mitsui. I won't be able to make it to work today. I have a personal emergency I must attend to. If the blueprints for the Suzuki job are needed, they are finished and on my desk. Thank you for understanding."

He found himself grinning in the driver's seat as he buckled himself in. Laundry was hardly a personal emergency, but his mind was already made up. If he drove home now, it would take him an hour and a half to get there, and even faster still if he drove like a bat out of hell, where he truly was a few hours ago.

_Bat outta hell it is..._

Tires smoked as he stepped on the gas and sped off, Mitsui running through a red light and merging dangerously onto the highway.

* * *

Early morning.

The Sandman did not come last night.

Rising out of bed, the rustle of fabric over skin perked the dog's ears to consciousness. Barefoot steps descended down the spiral staircase and silently made their way through the expanse of the mansion, the large house cold and barren. Looking back, the pet had also made its way through the house, meekly following its lone master down the hall and halting at her side, both facing the vastness of the living room, such a wide space with objects that were everything but living.

On the coffee table, an urn.

Eyes too tired to spill tears, they blinked at the sound of the intercom piercing the room. Pressing the button, a soft, tired voice.

"Yes?"

"This is your wake-up call, as requested."

A sad smile.

"Thank you, though I'm afraid to say that there really was no need for it."

A pause.

"Still jetlagged?"

Still mourning.

"Yes."

Hesitation.

"Please let us know when you are ready. Yoshi is ready and waiting for us."

Assent.

"I will meet you outside. Thank you."

End transmission.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Jackson stepped away from the intercom box and sat in silence with the other guards at the dinner table. Not a word was spoken since they arrived, and the silence only amplified the somber mood around them. Leaning on both elbows, Jackson looked down at his coffee mug, its steaming contents yet to be consumed.

"We'll take two cars today. Have you decided on who will do what today?"

Pausing to look at each other, each guard spoke.

"I'll drive the Benz."

"I'll drive the Beamer."

"I'll carry the urn."

Pursing his lips, the bulky guard nodded at his colleagues. "All right." Lifting the coffee mug to his lips, Jackson let the bitterness of the liquid engulf his mouth as it warmed his insides. "She should be ready any minute now."

His motion to stand signaled everyone else to take their coats and do the same, following him through the door and across the lush green lawn. The younger guards left their older colleagues to ready the cars, and after several security checks on the vehicles, they parked it in the driveway and left the engine running to join the other two. Clothed in black suits and ties, they looked like black pawns on a tiled chessboard, waiting for their mourning queen to emerge out of her desolate kingdom. Sakai bit his lower lip at the thought as both hands hid in the recesses of his pockets. Indeed, in the grand scheme of things, they were hired pawns and knew so from the beginning, even if they were hardly treated as such; yet by virtue of having the Nakamichis as their employers, they have become much more than mere pawns. They were now the guardians of the last of a brilliant kind. They were the closest thing to family.

The sound of the backdoor creaking made all guards' heads turn to see a figure in a black silk dress come into view, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses and black gloved hands holding the urn close to her. Quietly offering to carry the object, Jackson held his thick hands out as she acquiesced to take the offer and deposited the urn in his clutch. Leading the way, Sakai opened the back passenger door of the Benz for her, shutting the door as quietly as possible after she took her seat. Taking the front passenger seat, Sakai fastened himself in and nodded at Fuji to roll out of the driveway. The two in the BMW followed the car ahead of them, all making their way to the lake by Yoshi's restaurant.

The drive was deathly silent, and only the hum of the tires' tread against the pavement filled the interior of the car. Glancing briefly at the rear view mirror, Fuji saw the head of their passenger leaning against the seat and toward the back window, the soft lines of her porcelain face casting shadows as they rounded a curve that drew away from the sun's striking rays. He quickly withdrew his gaze and turned them to the road, the first thing coming to mind a doll of alabaster complexion, its hue only above a sickly shade.

So lifeless.

Fuji silently gripped at the steering wheel as they rounded another curve, the path to the restaurant a maze of meandering swells and peaks, almost like a boat ride in the ocean under the eye of a storm.

He wished for this day to be over.

"Please stop the car," a voice from the back seat said, partly pleading and partly commanding. Promptly granting her request, Fuji pulled over and Sakai radioed the car ahead of them. A minute of silence passed by before she bolted out of the backseat, startling the pair of guards out of their seats and following her darting figure until she abruptly stopped behind a tree and lost what little contents her stomach had left. Shaken, Fuji wanted to shorten the gap between them but Sakai held him back, his eyes contrite and head quietly shaking.

"Give her some space," he said as he slowly loosened his grip on the younger guard's shoulder, the latter's impatience showing through his furrowed brow.

"Let me at least give her a handkerchief," mumbled Fuji, reaching into his pocket.

Nodding, Sakai let his colleague do as he intended and watched as Fuji walked closer to her, asking quietly if she was going to be all right, his extended hand offering the square cloth. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, she excused herself before thanking the guard, looking away in embarrassment as she wiped her mouth with the handkerchief, the soft, cotton feel of the fabric against lips surprisingly comforting. Their attention quickly diverted to the car approaching theirs in reverse, its passengers getting out of the car and hurrying to the three standing by the side of the road.

"I'm sorry, everyone," she said, her voice hoarse and quivering.

"We don't have to do this today if you're not –"

"I feel better now," she interrupted, her gloved hand placing the cloth in her small purse. She pushed off against the tree trunk and balanced herself erect, the guards around her wary that she might falter and fall. Lowering her gaze to the ground, she took a deep breath and spoke. "Would it be possible... if I could stay... stay here for a little while?"

The guards looked at each other, their gazes full of question and concern.

"You can stay as long as you need to, Nakamichi-dono," answered Sakai, his calm voice producing a small smile of relief on her lips. "Fuji, go find out if there's anything open at this hour that has something to eat and please buy some for Nakamichi-dono."

The younger guard nodded, got into the Benz and drove off.

In the midst of their silence, Jackson went back to their vehicle, popped open the trunk and searched for a small folding chair. Finding one, he silently thanked Miller for outfitting the trunk with the item and folded it open, bidding her to sit and rest. Thanking him, she sat quietly with her gaze to the ground, her eyes still hidden behind those dark lenses, their color a most probable paltry gray. Trying to make the best out of the situation, Jackson inspected the Beamer's front and rear tires, took out the pressure gauge out of the glove compartment and measured the tires' pressures, all the while hoping that by the time Fuji comes back, this current state of melancholy would dissipate and somewhat return to normal.

He pursed his lips at the thought, the gauge releasing a burst of air as he measured the last tire. Only one man could really make it happen, he thought; however, giving him explanations without driving the man into lunacy would be a task ostensibly overwhelming to accomplish. Recapping the valve, Jackson looked up at the sky, quietly asking Midori what to do next for his little sister.

* * *

Mitsui drove into Kanagawa twenty minutes earlier than he expected, the streets of his suburban hometown still empty save for a few men and women dressed in business attire, headed for the train station. He smiled as he turned left onto the main street which led to his alma mater, most of the businesses across the street still closed except for one brightly lit shop where an old man with a broom swept the sidewalk directly in front. It was the bakery, the smells wafting from its ovens reminiscent of warm, fresh kolaches, a kind old man, Sunday Mornings, physics homework, and a blue-eyed tutor. Without even thinking, Mitsui parked his car in front of the bakery, the old man looking up from his morning chore and wore a look of delighted surprise on his face as he turned off the engine and stepped out of his vehicle.

"Mitsui-kun, is that you?" the old man asked, his smile warm and welcoming.

"In the flesh, sir," he replied, extending his hand out for the baker to shake, his arthritic hand still strong in his grip.

"Come on in, young man," he said, leaning his broom against the doors and ushering Mitsui inside. "Are you hungry?"

"Now that you've mentioned it, I'm quite starved."

Washing his hands behind the sink, the old man dried his hands with a towel hanging by the sink and walked behind the display case. "Well, you're quite early, so the pickings are plenty."

Laughing, Mitsui pointed to several kolaches, the old baker grinning at the number of items he was getting.

"And Jii-chan... I was wondering if you could make me a Sunday Morning again," Mitsui said, his eyes looking away as he spoke.

"I'd be glad to," the old man answered with a grin. Placing all the kolaches on a serving plate, he handed it to his customer and began making the drink right away. Upon placing a spoonful of chocolate into a mug, the old man's eyes perked in remembrance. "Say, where is your pretty lady friend, what's her name again? That's right, Reiko-chan. How come she's not with you?"

Mitsui found it hard to swallow the piece of kolache he had in his mouth. Pausing for a moment, he hoarsely replied, "She's not on this earth anymore, Jii-chan."

Old eyes widened at the shocking news, making the baker stop his spoon from stirring the drink.

"What?! Are you serious?"

Mitsui could only answer with a somber nod.

"Surely it's not true," reacted the old man, stirring the drink a few more times before bringing it over to Mitsui and taking the seat next to him.

_Oh God... please don't let me go through this again..._

Mitsui took a deep breath and tried to look as nonchalant as possible. "I'm afraid it is, Jii-chan."

"Tell me what happened," urged the old baker, his elbows leaning on the breakfast table, eager to hear his customer's words.

Recounting what happened, Mitsui told the old man everything he saw at the blast site, of the memorial that was held, and the people who came to their house. There were long pauses during his narration of past events, and though they happened over two years ago, his heart still ached to remember the face he longed to forget, his eyes tearing at the memory of the life behind her colorful eyes. The old man sensed these things and consoled the young man with pats on the back, the kolaches on the plate forgotten at the solemn moment.

"Here, drink this before it gets cold," the old man suggested as he brought the drink closer to Mitsui. Shaking his head slowly as he watched his customer sip the drink, he sighed. "I'm sorry you've been through a rough time, Mitsui-kun."

A quiet nod.

"I guess those gentlemen with her must've also gone through a tough time, losing her like that."

Mitsui closed his eyes for a second. "Jii-chan, they were in the vehicle with her... no one survived the explosion."

The old man's face wore a look of incredulity at his words. "That's not possible, Mitsui-kun. About an hour ago, one of them came through the entrance and asked for a box of kolaches to go. He didn't think I'd recognize him, but I did."

Mitsui looked at the baker in disbelief.

"And when I opened the register to give him change, he told me to keep it, saying that he was in a hurry. So you couldn't possibly be right about the guards perishing with her."

By this time, Mitsui was appalled and extremely confused. How could that be? He saw it with his own two eyes: five body bags hauled away in an ambulance, all within dead. It was on the evening news, in the newspaper, in the local journals, even the university paper. How could Fuji be alive? And if Fuji was alive... could it possibly mean that she, too, survived?

"No, I saw the whole thing... the body parts... the melted steel..." he trailed off, staring into space as he retreated into the recesses of his mind in doubt.

All of a sudden, Mitsui consumed the rest of the half-eaten kolache on his plate, his breathing growing increasingly rapid, prompting the old baker to calm his customer down. Downing the rest of his Sunday Morning quickly, Mitsui asked for a to-go sac and the old man obliged, worried for his distraught customer as he handed the sac to him, watching with surprised and confused eyes as he fled through the door, into his car, and drove down the street.

Speeding through the avenue, Mitsui couldn't make heads or tails of what the old man just told him. He gritted his teeth in thought. He knew Reiko was pursued and nearly murdered during volleyball finals. Impatiently waiting for the light to turn green, he tried to calm himself down by taking a deep breath. Humiliation was motive enough for the math professor to kill her, and he more than likely planted the bomb in the Suburban that killed them all. But it didn't make sense; the professor was already behind bars when she died, and so were the other men involved in her attempted murder. However, if it was true that Fuji was alive...

_I have so many questions I need answered..._

Green light.

He didn't get too far away from the intersection until he halted his car, several cars behind him slamming on their brakes and furiously honking for him to move. He paused for a moment before peeling out, going the direction from which he came. Questions and confusion melded in his head and it began to throb with pain in time to the apprehension in his heart, his pulse racing as he reached the bakery once more. Parking by the curb, he left the engine running, jumped out of the car and ripped through the entrance of bakery, startling the old man and several customers by the counter.

"Jii-chan! Which way did you see Fuji go?" he spat out, his chest rising up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

The old man faced the street and pointed left. "He went that way," he said, his voice a little overwhelmed.

Mitsui bolted from where he stood and shouted a thank-you over his shoulder before jumping back into his car and taking off. Left. The way to the hills.

_The way to Italian restaurant..._

The car only went faster with the increasing force of his foot over the gas pedal at the thought, his mind trying desperately to separate reality from the old man's words. As the vehicle careened through the turns and curves, he faced the possibility that he would be let down by false hopes, that perhaps the old baker's eyes weren't so sharp anymore. Nearing the last curve that led to the restaurant, his heart raced to keep up with his thoughts as he made his way to the establishment's parking lot, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut as he approached the entrance of the restaurant.

Locked.

Knocking a few times, he looked around behind him and so no other cars parked, prompting him to stand back.

_Think, Mitsui..._

He spied several stone steps that led to the side of the building and he followed it, taking him to the wooden deck where he once stood with Reiko looking at fireworks over the lake. Scanning both sides of the deck, he faced the lake and placed one hand on the cold balustrade, not knowing what to do next.

And then, singing.

A distant, high pitched voice, a foreign and sad song, the melody piercing the morning air like that of a melancholy songbird, its tune carrying sadness within its notes, as if the one singing longed to be free of some vexing plight. He hurried to the direction of the voice, entering a rugged path of wild bushes and shrubbery flanked by tall trees of pine. His breath ragged, he reached a slope where he could no longer go past, the height granting him a better view of the large lake without any of the treetops obstructing his view.

There, by the edge of the lake where his eyes couldn't see past the trees, was a large boat, all within dressed in black attire, several figures standing some distance away from a woman in a dress at the front of the vessel, holding something close to the chest.

_A vase?_

Mitsui stood quietly and listened, wishing his eyes could see the faces of the people on the boat, the heartrending melody of the siren song making his hairs stand on end. It was suddenly difficult to breathe, the memory of Reiko's face flashing before his mind's eye, his ears telling him that the voice he heard was unmistakably hers, his heart demanding more proof that he could see with his teary eyes. The singer's voice hit a quivering high note and faded into silence, the lake and its surroundings quiet once more; the woman at the front of the boat walked to the side of the vessel and scattered the contents of the vase overboard, something Mitsui couldn't see. He watched the figure place the container aside, gloved hands holding onto the railing, his eyes spying the sunglasses covering her eyes. He gasped loudly when he saw her fall backwards onto the floor, his reaction barely audible but detected by one of the men on the boat as the others rushed to the woman's aid.

He paused to take in the scene for a moment longer before heading back to his car, his heart heavy with loss intertwined with hope. As he brushed the low-hanging branches of saplings aside, he didn't think that hoping for anything would bring her back; he had been let down so many times before, looking twice after seeing someone who just slightly looked like her, ears perking at a soprano voice floating through the speakers of a record store... After a while, he got used to getting disappointed. Getting into his car, he clicked himself into his seat, pausing before resting his head against the steering wheel.

_That voice... it could be her, but... I couldn't see her face... _

His eyes began to tear again.

Wiping them, he keyed the engine to life and drove off, half guessing that the old baker's eyes aren't as reliable, wholeheartedly wishing that the voice he heard was truly hers. Without visual confirmation, he knew he would plunge yet again into a sea of doubt and her face would haunt him over and over as it did in the past.

Carrying the unconscious body off the floor, Jackson yelled for a chair and the medical kit. Fuji scurried to the stern to get the items requested, tossing a small box with a red cross painted on it to Yoshi who delivered it to Jackson. Miller stood closer to the rear of the boat with one eye closed and the other looking through a small monocular.

"Who was that?" asked Sakai, looking in the direction of Miller's gaze, his hand close to the holster of his gun.

"No way..."

Sakai looked at his colleague questioningly, his younger face wearing a look of astonishment.

"It's him."

"What? But how could he know?"

Miller shrugged.

"We'll soon find out."

The pair of guards joined the others huddled near the front of the boat, the men washed over with relief upon seeing her eyes open.

"Let's head to shore, Sakai," asked Jackson as he held the disoriented girl in his arms.

* * *

Looking at her purchase list, Sayuri bit her lower lip as she waited in line behind the counter of the local pharmacy, eyeing the items in her basket as she named them off the paper.

"Facial lotion," she mumbled to herself, poring through the basket of stuff and frowning. She forgot to get the last thing on her list, and she thanked herself for checking it twice. Seeing no one behind her in line, she set the basket down, ran down the cosmetics aisle and grabbed a small box off a shelf. Movement caught the corner of her eye and she looked up to see a glimpse of a fairly tall man dressed in shiny black shoes, suit pants and a white shirt, his coat dangling from his black gloved fingers over his shoulder and a loosened tie of a gun metal shade, making her think that the model she saw yesterday in a GQ magazine magically stepped out to grace her with his presence. Smirking at the silly thought, she was about to turn on her heels back to her spot in line when she heard the man speak.

"I'm afraid that won't work... some ice on her head and she'll be fine... no, they don't have the same kind of bandages... hell, I'll just get all of them. We need to restock the first aid kits, anyway..."

She quickly peered over her shoulder after recognizing the sound of the man's voice, her conviction equaling the reservations in her mind. _Fuji-san has been dead for over two years..._ Sayuri's eyes met the man's gaze, his eyes covered by dark shades and a gloved hand holding a cell phone to his ear, and for a moment, the man froze. She gasped.

_Oh my God..._

She was about to approach him when a voice near the entrance of the pharmacy piped out.

"Is the customer with the basket ready to check-out? There are people waiting in line."

"Ah, I'm coming!" she shouted out.

She turned around and got to the end of the aisle before looking over her shoulder once more.

He was gone.

Her grip on the small box grew tighter as alarm surged throughout her, like she just saw the ghost of the handsome bodyguard she grieved over several years ago.

"Last call for the customer with the basket!"

Sayuri ran back to her place in line, grabbing her basket and placing it on the check-out counter along with the box of facial lotion, its edges crushed by the panic that overwhelmed her just a few moments ago. She scanned the store for any sign of the man, letting out a sigh when she found no trace of him. _I must be seeing things... _After being told her total, she mindlessly reached for her wallet and paid for her purchases, her heart remembering once more how heavy it felt when she attended that memorial service for her friend and teammate, and the four men who guarded her.

* * *

Surprised to see his son's car in the driveway, Mr. Mitsui entered his home from his morning jog to find his son sitting against the door frame that separated the kitchen and the laundry room, eyes staring into space. The washer was filling with water and whirred to life as it churned to work, tossing and turning the clothes within it.

"Hisashi?"

Stirring at his name, he looked up to see his father's face full of concern. "Hey, Pops..." he trailed off, returning his gaze to the nothingness of the space he stared at. Mr. Mitsui knew his son drove himself to exhaustion with his job in Tokyo, and everyone in the family knew why he hardly came to visit Kanagawa. Something didn't feel right.

"Son, are you okay?" he asked, pulling a chair out quietly and settling into it.

"I'm fine... I just thought I'd do some laundry," he answered, his voice a low mumble that made Mr. Mitsui strain his ears.

"Did someone at work tick you off?" he inquired jokingly as he got up and reached for the teapot. His son shook his head, adding to the worry billowing in Mr. Mitsui's head. Taking a moment to toss some tea leaves in the pot, he filled it with hot water and placed the pot on the kitchen table. Returning to his seat, Mr. Mitsui looked at the blank stare on his son's face.

"Hisashi, come over here and sit with me."

Obeying, he got up from the doorframe and sat next to his father, his eyes now fixed on the steam that escaped from the spout of the teapot. Grabbing two tea cups, Mr. Mitsui placed one before his son and one in front of him, words of inquiry reluctant to leave his mouth.

"I saw a funeral today."

Eyes widening at his son's statement, Mr. Mitsui tried to not sound surprised. "Really? Whose was it?"

A shrug.

"I don't know... but it must've been someone very important."

"What makes you think that?"  
"Because she sang to him."

Before Mr. Mitsui could inquire further, his son cut him off.

"I heard Reiko sing today."

His father's brow furrowed. "What?"

Running his hand through his head in his own disbelief, he leaned back in his seat and shook his head. "I heard her sing today... but... I don't know... maybe it wasn't her..."

"Son, you're not making any sense—"

"I know, Pops... I know... in my heart I was hoping it was her but her face was too far away for my eyes to see..."

An awkward moment.

"Hisashi... Reiko-chan has passed away, and—"

Mr. Mitsui paused abruptly when he saw his son crumple over the table, his face pillowed and buried under his forearms, sobs of helplessness filling the space between them. He brought a hand over his son's head, smoothing out the ruffles in his hair before rubbing his shaking back, his tears rending his fatherly heart once more as he heard his son speak through his cries.

"I'm losing my mind, Pops... not a day goes by without her in my mind... and just when I thought I was strong enough to put her out of my mind, I hear her voice and I am left powerless once more..."

Mr. Mitsui lowered his head in pity, his eyes closed, damming the tears that welled in his eyes.

"... I'm pitiful," his voice trembled, head slowly shaking. "I walk tall like I'm so above it, try to steel my heart against it... but I feel just as heavy as the weights I lift every time I come home... I fall apart without her and... I'm afraid I'm going to be broken for the rest of my life."

Letting a tear escape from the corner of his eye, Mr. Mitsui wished his son was small enough to sit on his lap and be consoled. It was disheartening to see his son this way; he thought he had gotten over it, even if it was just a little, the job in Tokyo and the rare visits to Kanagawa small indicators of him moving on. He didn't know that this love for her slowly consumed him inside, and he was afraid that one day there would be nothing left of him. He didn't know how else to comfort his son. Just when he was about to take his hand away, his son lunged at his chest and clung to him desperately like he was a little boy again so many years ago. Mr. Mitsui embraced him with all his might, patting his back and whispering soothing words of consolation.

"I hate being weak... I hate how missing her makes me feel."

Mr. Mitsui didn't know what to do or say to this; his son's loss left him and the rest of his family utterly helpless. All he could do was hold his son and pray that the wolves of Reiko's ghost would leave the doors of his mind.

* * *

Suspended in the warm waters of the familiar tank, the masked floating figure before the men's wary eyes raised a hand, signaling for the experiment to begin. Those in white lab coats flipped switches and pressed a number of buttons, figures on several monitors flashing with graphs and charts. Reaction times were recorded, the efficacies graded. Jackson stood and watched next to Sakai as the room bustled with activity, hands hidden inside pockets and ties hanging loosely around their necks. They waited patiently for the colorful process to be over, retrieving her from the watery chamber and draping a terry cloth robe around her as she stepped down. Before she could leave the room, one of the white coats asked her to stay a few moments longer for a last check on her vitals, and she silently agreed. Leaving her alone with the doctor, both guards waited outside the double doors of the research lab, occasionally glancing through the small square windows of the doors. Sakai heard Jackson sigh.

"We haven't even been here two days and this happens," the brawny guard mumbled, his arms crossing across his broad chest.

"She's only human, Jackson. She was just overwhelmed."

A grunt.

"Where is Miller now?"

"In town getting supplies with Fuji."

A minute of silence passed between them, Sakai finally untying his tie and taking it off before folding and stowing it away in his suit jacket.

"It's obvious we're all still tired... and I know she is, too. I suggest we just take her home and rest. We don't have to do everything today."

Jackson wore a small smile. "That sounds like a great idea." Pacing by the doors, he looked through the windows once more. "When is her next appointment with the immersion chamber?"

"Day after tomorrow."

Looking down at the shiny floor, Jackson took a pensive moment before looking at his watch. "Morning is almost over, we'd better get something to eat."

"I've already called Yoshi and he's sending lunch over," replied Sakai who also took a glance through the windows. When he heard his partner sigh a second time, he voiced his observation.

"It's getting to you, isn't it?"

A nod.

"I wish I could say no."

Hush.

"I feel so restless... I want to find Mitsui as soon as possible, but I'm afraid I'll sound like a moron and drive him insane."

Sakai looked at him knowingly. "I think all four of us want to do that, but she probably has ideas of her own. Let's see what she has to say about it."

Jackson let a grin cross his lips. "You're a good man, Sakai. Always thinking of others."

Sakai smirked. "I think you just described yourself."

Seeing her cloaked figure approach the double doors, they held them open for her as she emerged out of the lab, her weak voice softly thanking them as she walked down the hallway with them by her sides.

* * *

The club was pretty dead that evening, with only a few barflies populating the joint. Regardless of the empty dance floor, Yohei continued to mix tunes that blared through the speakers with rhythmic bass that even made the bartender nod to its rhythm. Another boring weeknight, he thought, flipping through his CD cases before running across the one he recently recorded. He smirked. Sakuragi was right; he didn't have anything to lose if he showed up to the address on the business card. And besides, he had more than enough money to pay off his credit card, and he stowed the rest of the cash in his bank account. He laughed at himself. _Now there's more numbers there other than just a zero._

Looking up at the bar, he saw Sakuragi and the gundan walk through the front door, their faces laughing and ready to make fun of him.

"Yohei!" the redhead called out. "Stop the music and hang out with us!"

"No can do, man. I'm on the clock."

"Since when were you on a clock?"

The DJ laughed. "Since I said so. And I'm bored."

"We can fix that. All you have to do is sit there and we'll make fun of you."

Yohei yelled at the gundan for being morons and had them grab a few chairs. Sitting around the turntables, they ended up flipping through stacks of CDs, once in a while arguing which song was better than the other, Sakuragi blushing as he held the CD that contained the song to which he and Haruko slow-danced. For that, he was mercilessly teased.

They all found themselves in a noodle shop after hours, ordering the largest beef bowls and consuming everything within them to the last drop. When their hunger was somewhat sated, they paused for a while and discussed the latest date prospect for the DJ, Sakuragi all the while laughing at the absurdity of their suggestions.

"Yohei won't stand a chance with her. She's a black belt, for crying out loud!"

"I guess you'd better brush up on your high kicks."

"Hey, speaking of martial art, did you guys know my grandma does t'ai chi every morning now?" Takamiya stated.

"Yeah? Since when?"

"Don't know. But all her other grandma girlfriends are into it, and they probably got her doing it, too. Obaa-chan wakes me up every morning before she leaves for the park."

"That so? Why don't you go with her?" Yohei suggested, the others smirking at the thought.

Sakuragi leaned back in his seat and rested an arm on his full belly. "Who knows? Maybe you'll meet somebody's cute granddaughter."

Takamiya grimaced. "That would be a negative, sir. And besides, do you know how embarrassing it would be if Obaa-chan found out I was dating her friend's granddaughter? I mean, that's like walking into a torture room! Soon she'll be showing her my baby pictures!"

The DJ shrugged in delight. "Hey, maybe she'll like you even more."

"Shut up, Yohei," grumbled Takamiya as the rest of the gundan laughed.

Walking home, the friends parted ways at an intersection, leaving Yohei with Sakuragi the rest of the way home. They lived a few houses down from each other, and the route they took home was the same one they took from school. A few people straggled along the avenue, some drunk, some taking the drunk home. It was rather late, and Sakuragi knew for sure that his mother would give him a few choice words of reproof for being out so late with his classes so early the next morning. The redhead sighed.

"Hey man, we've got a game coming up. You coming?"

Yohei's hands found themselves cradling the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess I could. When is it?"

"Three days from now."

"Sure. Just don't foul out. Yuuji and Anozumi always bet that you would."

Expecting words of protest, Yohei was surprised to hear his friend burst in high-minded laughter. "Place your bets on me, for this Tensai surely won't foul out!" he declared, his hands placed defiantly against his hips.

Yohei heaved a sigh. "Yeah, yeah... oh hey, Hanamichi... I decided to go ahead and show up to that odd job I told you about."

"Awesome! So, do I get a cut of the dough for being your bodyguard?" squealed Sakuragi, his eyes wide with hope.

"What are you talking about?! If nothing, you _owe_ me money for all the times you said you forgot your wallet at home and I had to pay for your meal!"

The redhead pouted. "Che! I guess I'll let you have a freebie."

Yohei laughed at the idea.

"But all kidding aside, pick me up when you head out," Sakuragi said, the tone in his voice making his friend take him seriously. "Got that?"

The DJ nodded with a grin. "And would you like fries with that, sir?"

"I'm serious, Yohei," chided Sakuragi

"I know, I know." A hushed minute passed between the two before they stopped in front of Sakuragi's house. "Here's your stop. Thanks, Hanamichi. I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"All right." Sakuragi glanced at his watch before looking at the front door, apprehensive of his mother's scolding voice. "See you then." And with that, the redhead jumped on the fence, balanced himself before walking a few steps and finally lunging upwards, his hands catching a part of the window sill. Opening the window, Sakuragi nimbly jumped into his room, dusting his hands off before throwing his best friend a wave. Yohei nearly laughed out loud; Sakuragi would do anything to avoid his mother's scolding, even perform acrobatics just to get into his room at that late hour.

* * *

Walking hand in hand along the sidewalk of the shopping district, Ayako giggled at the stories Miyagi was telling her, and at one point she stopped in her tracks to let out her laughter, all the while controlling the volume of her chuckles. The man holding her hand loved to hear the sound of her laughter, and so it was no surprise that they didn't get very far without Ayako stopping to let her laughter bubble out. Finding a bench shadowed by two tall trees, she sat down clutching her stomach, playfully pushing Miyagi away as he took the seat next to her.

"But I'm serious! I've never heard anybody sneeze, fart and burp at the same time like that guy on the other team did! And on the court, too! That shameless bastard..."

Letting his girlfriend recover, Miyagi noticed the building of limestone and Spanish tile before them, his eyes widening in recollection.

"Hey Aya-chan, do you remember this shop?" he asked, patting her shoulder to attention. Looking up, she nodded.

"This is the place where Reiko-chan and Mitsui took us on our anniversary," she said, her voice ending on a crestfallen note as she eyed the store's name engraved on an ornate wooden plaque.

_Studio One_.

Suddenly finding Miyagi's hand gripping her hand tightly in his, she smiled at his consoling gesture. They let themselves remain so for a few moments, the memories of that night and the generosity of their friend giving them unheard of happiness. Their eyes moved to the doors of the clothing establishment as it swung open, two men in shades and casual dress emerging from the doors and the familiar thin man who had welcomed them once before lively chatting with them in a language neither Ayako nor Miyagi understood. They were not surprised; he spoke the same way with Reiko then.

"Wanna go eat?" Miyagi suggested, and Ayako nodded excitedly. As they stood up and paced towards the intersection, a Benz drove by whose driver's face caught Ayako's eye.

"Wait—"she said as she stopped, her head craning behind them to see the two men they saw previously open the back passenger seat closest to the curb. Out stepped a tall and slender figure, making Ayako think that she was some famous model who endorsed the store owner's clothing. A cry of surprise left the thin man's throat, his arms flying to embrace the woman before him in what seemed like a reunion of old friends.

"What is it?" asked Miyagi, his eyes following Ayako's gaze.

"Sorry, I thought I saw somebody I knew," she explained, her eyes lingering at the scene a few seconds more. And then, a collective gasp.

The woman whose face they now stared at smiled at them, and before she could wave at the two, one of the men whispered in her ear, prompting her to give the befuddled couple a quick but polite bow before getting into the vehicle and driving off.

Ayako was rooted to the ground as was Miyagi, their eyes wide as saucers and mouths gaping in astonishment. Several seconds passed before Miyagi could recover from the spectacle.

"Aya-chan... did I just see..."

She suddenly tugged on his shirt, her face filled with surprise. "Oh my God, Ryota! It's her!"

"But she's dead!"

Her voice grew frantic. "It was her! You saw her with your own two eyes!"

The look on Miyagi's face was apparent. "I know what I saw... but how could that be?"

"We have to tell Mitsui-senpai!" she exclaimed as she pulled on her boyfriend's arm. When he made no move to budge, she looked back. "What are you waiting for, Ryota?"

He shook his head. "If I'm in this much denial about her being alive, think of how Mitchy would react! Do you think it was just somebody who looked like her?"

Ayako protested in exasperation. "When have you ever seen a beautiful woman acknowledge us with a bow like she knew us? She's the only one with manners like that. She had those two big guys with her, and I recognized the driver of the car, Ryota! It was Fuji-san! It has to be her!"

Miyagi nodded and brought his hands up as if to stop Ayako from running out of breath. Looking down at the ground with the same confused face, he quietly shook his head slowly. "How in the hell do we explain something like this to Mitchy? And what if we're wrong? I would hate for him to get his hopes up without solid proof."

Ayako was silenced by his logic. How indeed? Before she could voice another word, her cell phone rang and she dug through her purse to answer it. Saying a few words, she hung up and looked at her boyfriend's expectant face.

"That was Nanami. She wants me to meet up with her. Will you come with me?"

Miyagi arched a brow at his suddenly demanding girlfriend. Was she not just spinning her head a moment ago at who they just saw? He was impressed at her recovery time. "Is it gonna be girl talk?" He was answered with a huff of annoyance.

"No, silly. She sounded urgent. Come on, we gotta hurry and tell her who we saw," she said, finally pulling on his arm and getting him to move.

Miyagi didn't know what was more overwhelming: seeing his friend's supposedly dead girlfriend or being the captive audience of female conversation with no way out. He heaved out a sigh as they turned the corner, letting Ayako lead the way as she held on to him like a prisoner being dragged. _I am _**too**_ whipped_, he thought as they entered a nearby coffee shop.

* * *

"Computer on."

-Hello, Nakamichi-dono-

"Hello. I would like information on the current status of Mitsui Hisashi."

Pause.

-Permission on hold-

Confusion.

"I do not understand. Please access again."

Pause.

A glitch.

Letters on the flat screen.

-Please consult Mr. Jackson with access problem-

She still didn't understand. Calling out to her corgi, the dog followed her to the nearest intercom box. Pressing the button, a deep bass voice answered.

"Yes, Nakamichi-dono?"  
Irritation.

"Why am I restricted from seeing information regarding Mitsui-san?"

Jackson could clearly tell she was agitated by this and prayed that she would understand in the moments to follow. "We apologize for this. There is no excuse."

A silent second.

"Even before we boarded the plane for Japan, we had all been contemplating this matter. We didn't want to do anything rash that would garner your disapproval, so we wanted to wait until you were ready to tell us of your plans of contacting him."

She bit her lip as he continued.

"It's obvious that so many things happened so quickly, and when you were in the immersion chamber today, we couldn't help but think of what was going to happen next. Your recovery is of the utmost importance... we promised Dr. Nakamichi your safety."

Regret.

"I... I apologize for my rudeness."

"No apology necessary."

Awkwardness.

Canine whimpering.

"How are you feeling?"

Relief.

"Much better, thank you."

A pause.

"Mr. Jackson, I would like to discuss something with you in person... if you do not mind."

"I will be there shortly."

End transmission.

Taking a minute to collect her thoughts, she was distracted by the insistent bark of her dog, the animal clearly trying to tell her something.

"What is it, boy?" she asked, looking at the dog as it walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Following it, she finally understood as the dog scratched at the back door, circled once and barked again. Glancing at the clock, she wore a small smile. "Okay, playtime it is." Opening the back door, she was startled at the sudden sight of Jackson standing before the threshold. The dog squeezed through the open entrance and frolicked its way to the green lawn, all the while Jackson apologizing for not knocking.

"Not at all. Please come in."

Ushered into the kitchen, Jackson stood by the pantry as she offered him a cup of tea. Taking her offer, he watched silently as her frail hands moved over the cupboard and drawers, noting her meticulous motions in making the tea and waiting a few seconds before pouring it into a cup. He noticed the long slender fingers that stirred the tea with a small silver spoon after some sugar and cream were added, and as his eyes strayed upon her face, the slight, sunken look of her eyes and cheeks called to his mind a wasting orphan, lost in her lonely world with only the swirling contents of the cup to distract her. Sliding the tea cup on the kitchen table towards the hulking guard, he quietly thanked her as she pulled out the chair next to him and took her seat. As he took a sip, his eyes studied her once more, her gaze falling to the neatly folded hands in her lap. Feeling the hot liquid sear its way down his throat, he placed the tea cup down.

A little bitter.

"I suppose you know what I am about to say you."

Brows rising at the assumption, he shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Nakamichi-dono."

Realizing his genuine unawareness, her eyes strayed to the curls of steam rising from Jackson's tea cup, her eyes an inert hue of crystal gray. "I... thank you for tending to me earlier this morning."

"Don't mention it." Taking a deep breath, the guard tried to lighten the mood. "The proprietor of Studio One was really happy to see you today."

Her face brightened somewhat. "He has always been kind to my family." She paused to remember who she saw next after her encounter with the fashion designer.

"Mr. Jackson... I feel awful not being able to speak with Ayako-san and Miyagi-san."

"I'm sorry that we had to rush you to the lab. The doctors were adamant that you show up for testing."

She watched in silence as Jackson took another sip of his tea, uncertainties clouding her mind with doubt. Now that she was back in Japan, she couldn't even begin to think of how she was going to explain her absence. Coming back to life after being dead for over two years was nothing short of ludicrous, and if the idea struck them as so, all the more so to Mitsui. She bit her lower lip in indecision; she wanted to know how he was, if he had coped with her disappearance, if he had moved on. _If he still remembers me..._ She wondered if she had any right to come back and disturb what had already settled, realizing that her presence would undoubtedly throw those who have already accepted her death into confusion and disbelief.

"About Mitsui-san," started Jackson, catching the girl's eyes before him color an ashy blue shade, "the only reason why I had his information restricted is because I wanted you to know about him directly from me."

"Oh," she replied, looking a little crestfallen. Jackson had known her since she was a child, and even now her disappointed reactions did not change. He knew she would be upset with this; he decided that it was time for a little damage control. Leaning towards her with elbows propped on his knees, the brawny guard reached out to enclose her cold and delicate hand, his voice soft and deep to her ears.

"Mitsui-san finished his studies and was offered a job at the engineering firm where he interned for a year. Several professional basketball teams offered him contracts to play, but he turned them all down."

Her eyes widened at his last statement.

"He now resides in Tokyo where he is assigned to the main office of Pinnacle Engineering."

Her breath caught. "But that's..."

Jackson nodded at her suspicion, her face slowly brightening at the revelation but to some extent still puzzled. His lips curled in satisfaction at that, but there was much more to be said.

"If it's Mitsui-san you wish to see, it will be of very little effort on our front to find him... You know, your uncle felt so guilty when he took you back to America... his intentions were only to see to your safety and health. But he didn't stop there. He knew that this is where you would ultimately go, so he made preparations for both your protection and wellbeing." Jackson halted briefly to think back to the times when he was dispatched quietly to carry out his orders, his eyes blinking at the macabre memory. She didn't completely understand the depth of his words, knowing all that time that her uncle only wanted to find her a better method of prolonging her life.

"Nakamichi-dono, we know that the loss of your uncle is a lot to handle. We noticed that you... haven't been eating much. Carrying you earlier to your bedroom confirmed the worst of our suspicions. You've lost a considerable amount of weight... it's not healthy..." Jackson trailed off, his eyes peering into hers as she met them with embarrassment, his hand gently tightening around hers. "You've been through a lot...and I know it's a lot to bear... but if you let yourself waste away, all your uncle's hard work will be for naught. Please, take good care of yourself. We know that it's difficult, but... it'll get better little by little... and, if there is anything we can do to help you, no matter how small or trivial it is, please come to us."

She gave the consoling guard a small smile, the warm emotion eliciting a grin from Jackson.

"Having said all this, please don't worry so much when it comes to the things you can't control, but rather, save your strength for the things you can. I know contacting Mitsui-san is a pressing issue... we can discuss how you want to go about it in greater detail later, but for now, you need to nourish your body. I was told that you'll be undergoing a different kind of test today, one that requires much physical effort on your part," he said, watching her nod at his statement. "Do you think it would be too much to ask of you to eat a good meal before heading out to the lab?" Jackson asked, his eyes crinkling with a smile.

She shook her head sheepishly, forcing the grin on the guard's face to widen. It was almost as if she had regressed back to the little child that she was when her family passed away. He couldn't blame her if this was the case; there are times in one's life when the most devastating events force even the most mature person into the shell of a trembling child. For her, it was a yielding, quivering silence. He had gone through all this before, and he was willing to play along once more if it would get her to feed herself. He allowed the smile on his face to linger.

"How about we ask Yoshi-san if he could fix you something to eat?" he suggested, his tone a little more playful this time.

Brows rising, her head tilted questioningly. "Will you and the others not be eating dinner with me?" she asked, the look on her face expectant, the gray in her eyes somewhat lightening. Jackson found it precious.

"Will you eat more if we do?"

She allowed her smile to widen.

"I'll take that as a yes," he decided, straightening up and leaning back into his seat. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he gave her hand a final small squeeze before letting go. "We can leave for Yoshi's as soon as you're ready."

Nodding, she followed the brawny guard's actions as he stood up and headed for the back door. Reaching for the door knob, he halted when she called out to him.

"Mr. Jackson...?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you... for being so kind to me." And with that she gave him the most radiant smile he had seen since her days with her basketball beau, making him stutter in awe at the resemblance she bore to her sister.

"D-Don't mention it."

Turning the knob, he opened it to find the dog standing keenly by the door, its tiny stub of a tail wagging upon seeing the guard and its master. Pulling the door wide open, the corgi barked cheerily as it ran past the threshold to her side, garnering a pat on the head. Amused, Jackson took his leave and walked through the steps that led to the servants' quarters, the girl and her dog watching his retreating form.

* * *

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

Silence.

Five seconds.

"Are we there yet?"  
"No."

Silence.

"Are we there yet?"  
A groan.

"No, damn it! Hanamichi, are you always this annoying?!"

The redhead slumped in his seat, his face pouting in dismay. "Only on long-ass car rides. Why didn't you tell me this place was going to be in butt-friggin' Egypt? Shit, I can't see a damn thing outside!"

"That's because it's nighttime, genius," Yohei blurted out, a smart grin crossing his face.

"No, I mean there's not a single light post in sight. Even farms have an occasional light on. It's like we're going to some backwoods site!" Hanamichi further complained, his arms waving in the air.

"Hey, it's not like I wanted them to be in the boondocks, either," Yohei spat out as he rolled his eyes, slowly beginning to think that it wasn't such a good idea to bring his friend along. Suddenly, the idea of him getting beat up was sounding better than Hanamichi's whining. Rounding a wide curve, Yohei was about to voice a witty opinion when he noticed bright halogen light posts up ahead. "Look, I think we're almost there."

Sakuragi stared at the lights for a moment before opening his mouth to speak.

"Are we there yet?"

"Would you shut up?!"

They approached a wide gate tethered by two cement stumps that were bordered by shrubs, with a brick wall no bigger than the van they rode in standing under a lamplight, its recessed lighting illuminating the shadowed letters across its surface.

"Lexicon Laboratories," Yohei read out loud before shifting the car to park. Turning to his friend who was examining their dark surroundings, he leaned on the steering wheel with both arms. "Well, we're here now and right on time, too... doesn't look like anybody's home."

"Think again," muttered Sakuragi, his gaze fixed at the gate that slowly opened to give way to their waiting vehicle. Yohei was equally surprised; they didn't even so much as honk the horn and they were given access to the property. Shifting back to drive, he slowly drove through the gates and continued on the dimly lit cobbled driveway until it stopped in front of a rather large, well-lit building, its windows suspended high where the roof and its walls met. His eyes wandered over the landscaping of the place, flowering shrubbery and stately trees littering the property's grounds, their swaying limbs casting eerie shadows under the lights that surrounded the building.

"What the hell is this place?" mumbled the redhead, his eyes roving through the dimly lit grounds.

"I don't know, but here comes our welcoming party."

Seeing a spectacled man wearing a white lab coat, Sakuragi unbuckled himself and got out of the car, his friend doing the same, leaving the engine running. The man approached them with his hand extended in a welcoming gesture, the genuine smile on his face calming to the two.

"Hello and welcome to Lexicon Labs. Yoshikawa Hiro," the man greeted as he met the DJ's firm grip. "Thank you for coming."

"No prob," answered Yohei, quickly warming up to the man before them. "I'm Yohei, and this is my friend Sakuragi. He'll be helping me with the equipment."

The redhead beamed a catlike grin at the amused man who was much smaller than he. After exchanging short pleasantries, the man instructed Yohei to drive the van through the path that curved around the north wing of the building. Following instructions, they waited for Yohei to park and get out of the vehicle. Meeting up with them, the two were asked to follow them inside the building, the intense fluorescent lights overhead blinding them as they squinted their way behind the spectacled man. As soon as their eyes adjusted to the brightness, they were awed at what they saw. Large computer screens dressed the white walls with flickering numbers, several long tables upholstered with foam and navy vinyl, and more men and women in white coats tending to electronic boards and panels of keys and knobs. After being introduced to the collective in white, they were led to an elevated platform close to the wall. It was like being on the set of a science fiction movie, and it sent chills up their spines, not because of the room's blinding antiseptic interior, but because of the unbelievably cold temperature. Yohei caught himself rubbing against his arms, the act quickly noticed by Yoshikawa.

"I'm sorry about the air conditioning, guys," he said as he walked to a metal locker by the far wall. Opening it, he took two of the largest jackets he could find and handed it to the freezing duo. "There are a lot of computers in this building, and we have to keep it cool."

"It's no problem," Yohei answered, thanking the man as he put the coat on, the redhead doing the same. The spectacled man ushered the two to sit on one of the vinyl tables, himself taking a seat on the one adjacent to theirs.

"Our contact told us that he didn't tell you much of what you guys will be doing. I'm sorry about that. Even we didn't know what we were up against until now. Basically, we need you to provide us with a variety of music that can progressively reach over 150 beats per minute. Now, I understand you are in the music industry, am I correct?"

"Kind of," replied Yohei, his hand unconsciously reaching for the back of his head. "I'm just a DJ, nothing special."

Yoshikawa wore a small grin. "Perhaps you underestimate the importance of what you can do."

"So what precisely will we be doing?" Yohei posed, leaning back on his wrists.

"What you've been doing every night at the club. Mix music."

Sakuragi cocked his head back in scrutiny. "Don't you guys have a radio in here or something? 'Cause it's much cheaper to get one that to hire Yohei to—Ow!" The redhead received a quick punch to the shoulder, making him wince in pain. "Sheesh... touchy..."

The exchange made the man laugh. "Well, I'm afraid this is going to require a little more thought and skill." Standing up, he led them in front of a flat panel screen that displayed a graph with several rows of jagged lines running across the screen. "Yohei-san, our goal is to be able to manipulate the fluctuation of these lines with music."

"What do the lines mean?"

"They're brainwaves."

The two friends looked at each other in bewilderment. "Huh?"

"I'll explain later. For now, let's get your equipment set up over there," Yoshikawa pointed to the corner closest to the screen before them.

"Where do you want the speakers?"

"We won't need them for tonight, there are several of them already set up around the exercise field," the spectacled man said, pressing several buttons below the screen. "The outlet is by the corner, and you can plug the audio input into this panel over here."

Wishing that he was told this piece of information before lugging all his speakers into the van, Yohei dug his pockets for his keys. He threw Sakuragi a slight look of annoyance before composing himself. "Well, most of the music I mix is progressive club music. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

A shrug.

"All right then. We'll get the stuff out of the van."

It took no more than thirty minutes to put all the needed equipment in place, and one of the lab coated men supplied them with two very comfortable chairs that delighted Sakuragi to no end. After being told to calm down, Yohei called out to the man named Yoshikawa before selecting a CD.

"So what kind of music did you need?" he asked as he handed the redhead one of the many CD holders by their feet.

Before the short man with could answer, one of the lab coated men murmured something in his ear, making him nod in agreement before facing the DJ. "How about something that starts out with eighty BPMs?"

"That slow, huh?" commented Yohei as he began to flip through the holders.

"Our test subject requires a warm-up."

Sakuragi's ears perked, his brows knitted. _Test subject?_ The redhead looked over his shoulder at the spectacled man as several of his lab coated buddies took their seats facing the wall adjacent to Yohei's turntable. He continued to watch, each one of them putting a headset on with a microphone wire before breaking out into a cacophony of terms he had difficulty understanding.

"Sym link detected... sym link is a go."

"Camera one on standby."

"Parasym link detected... parasym link is a go."

"Camera two and three on standby."

"Pulse rate at sixty-four beats per minute and stable."

"Camera four on standby."

"Respiration rate at twelve breaths per minute."

"Oxidated toxin level at fourteen point eight percent."

"Temperature holding at ninety-eight point seven degrees Fahrenheit."

"All systems are go. Awaiting confirmation."

Yoshikawa pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before placing his hands in his lab coat pockets. "Slide the panels open and link up audio input."

The CDs completely forgotten, Sakuragi's mouth gaped at the sight of the white walls sliding apart, revealing a large window that spanned the whole wall, allowing all to see the lush green lawn below lighted by towers of intense white light. Yohei spied his gawking friend and followed his gaze to the same wall, reacting exactly as the redhead did.

"Perform the sound check. Yohei-san, any time you're ready."

Snapping out of his trance, Yohei quickly flipped through a couple of pages of the CD holder, took one out and placed it into the player. Grabbing his headphones, he placed them on and adjusted the equalizer and the volume on the turntable, the richness of the bass sound accompanied by lively orchestrations of melodies could be heard through the large glass window. Yohei shouted over his shoulder.

"Sorry, Yoshikawa-san. A hundred and five BPM is the lowest I've got."

The glare of the monitors reflecting off his silver rimmed glasses, Yoshikawa shifted his eyes from screen to screen, leaving Yohei to guess if he was going to reply with an approval. A few seconds later, the DJ got his answer.

"It should be all right," he said, fishing out a small microphone from his pocket. Clicking it on, he looked down at the lawn where five people came into view. "Can you guys hear me down there?"

All five looked up and acknowledged the spectacled man with a wave. Clicking the small microphone off, he set it down on the control panel, before putting a headset on, talking into the wired microphone. "Nakamichi-dono, can you hear me?"

Sakuragi jerked his head at the name, immediately setting the CD holder down and walking toward the smaller man standing by the window. Before he could grab his shoulder for questioning, the redhead's eyes strayed to the lawn below them and saw one of the figures dressed in a black wet suit apart from the rest who donned casual clothing, the curves outlined by the suit betraying the feminine lines of a woman, her head covered in a hood of the same color that covered her whole head and ears. The suited figure turned around to look up to the wide viewing window and waved at Yoshikawa. Sakuragi's breath caught, skepticism pervading his judgment as he leaned over the control panels closer to the window, his face practically pressing against the glass. The suit concealed all of her save the face, fair and strikingly familiar to the redhead's disbelieving eyes.

Recognizing the tall stature and the red crown of hair on her observer's head, the black suited woman acknowledged Sakuragi with a small smile and a polite bow.

"Ten-minute warm-up," said Yoshikawa as he held the end of the microphone attached to the headset, barely hearing the words that came from Sakuragi's mouth.

"That can't be...!"

Covering the tip of the microphone with his hand, Yoshikawa turned his head to the astonished redhead. "Pardon me?" Strong hands reached out to grip his shoulders and Yoshikawa was lightly shaken.

"Tell me, who's the girl in the weird suit?" demanded Sakuragi, his brows knitted in anxious suspicion. Overwhelmed by the strength of his grip, the spectacled man momentarily lost all nerve to his tongue when he was shaken once more. "Who is she?!"

"Sh-she's Nakamichi-dono," stuttered Yoshikawa, the headset on his person detached slightly out of place, the look on Sakuragi's face growing more intense.

"Her full name, damn it!"

"N-na-nakamichi Reiko-dono," Yoshikawa answered, breathless after the redhead released him from his clutches and pressed his face back to the window, the suited woman's form moving across the lawn in a paced, undulating motion that reminded him of waves, almost seeming like a dance that moved her body with defined plasticity to the rhythm that pulsed through the evening air and felt through the laboratory walls. Stepping back as his head shook, Sakuragi nearly tripped backwards on the chair he was previously in. Looking up from the turntable, Yohei cast his eyes at his dumbfounded friend, one earpiece of the headphones still against his ear.

"What's eating you, Hanamichi?" he jeered, suddenly dropping his playful tone. "Hey, Sakuragi—"

"Did you just hear what they called her?"

"Called who?"

"The woman down there!"

The DJ's face brightened. "There's a woman down there?" Sakuragi gave him a punch in the shoulder. "What the hell was that for?"

"Haven't you been listening?!"

"I've got headphones to my ears, you idiot! Now what are you so worked up for?"

"The woman down there... it's Mitchy's girlfriend!"

This stilled Yohei, the redhead's words ludicrous to his ears. "Dude, all those late nights are getting to your eyesight, Hanamichi. You and I both know that—"

"Forget about what we both know and look at what we both can see!" he said, dragging Yohei by the arm and pushing him toward the large glass window. Finally understanding the disbelief and shock in his friend's eyes, Yohei stepped back in amazement at the sight of the lithe figure, searching for words to express what was going through his mind, finding none. It didn't make sense, and despite the many thoughts that ran through his mind, he couldn't pick out one with solid logic. He was about to turn to Yoshikawa for an explanation when he suddenly remembered what the man in the business suit said to him a week ago.

"_I was wondering if you'd be interested in letting that talent of yours participate in an experiment."_

"An experiment..." he muttered, leaving Sakuragi to wonder if the DJ was also knocked off his rocker. Yohei's eyes widened, wondering if this was what he meant... If _she _was the experiment. Staggering back to his turntable, he leaned against his equipment on his wrists in pensive shock.

"Um... Yohei-san... the song sounds like it's about to end," peeped Yoshikawa, meek from the redhead's explosive impetuosity. Without a word, Yohei replaced his headphones and prepared the next track to be played, matching the beat of the ending song to the next one, the beat counter on the register increasing to one hundred and twenty. Disturbed by the sudden calmness in his demeanor, Sakuragi growled.

"Yohei, this is serious shit, man! Don't you realize how important this is for Mitsui?!" he yelled, catching the attention of every one in the room.

Once the next song succeeded the first in smooth transition, Yohei looked down momentarily at his turntable and removed his headphones, his voice of a low, disconcerting tone. "Hanamichi... I know this is important, so important that I want to march back to Kanagawa to find him myself." He moved his gaze to his friend's troubled eyes. "But something isn't right." Facing away for a second, Yohei let his head fall forward. "If that business suit at the club knew that the reason why we'd be here tonight is because of her, then wouldn't you think they would've told Mitsui that she's alive by now?"

Sakuragi sank in his chair, soaking in his friend's words. "You're right... Mitchy probably knows already."

Taking another pensive moment, Yohei shook his head. "No, I don't think so." He met the redhead's questioning gaze. "As much of a shock this is for us, think for a second, Sakuragi. Why would they go through so much trouble to make us think that she's been dead for nearly three years? And then this," he paused, pointing to their surroundings, "why all this?"

Sakuragi sat in silence. Yohei had a point, and he himself was no fool. He remembered the chaos in Kanagawa Arena years ago, the anger he felt at the gunmen who scared the spectators to death, including Haruko and Ayako. The mortified looks on the bodyguards' faces as they watched Reiko go limp in Mitsui's arms, the sound of gunfire filling the arena... All that mess just for one person. Sakuragi didn't know much of the details behind it; he only knew that when Mitsui was with Reiko, he was the happiest man on the face of the planet. And when she vanished, so did the life in his friend's eyes. She left no mention of her existence and fled from this town and from Mitsui's side. And now she was down there, moving beneath the night sky like some graceful swan, very much alive and seemingly unaffected by the fact that she's being missed by so many people. Why did Mitsui have to suffer?

"This doesn't make any fucking sense," Sakuragi growled as he swept a hand over his face, his brow furrowed aggravation as he voiced out his thoughts. Had Mitsui been told all this beforehand, it would've saved him the grief and unimaginable misery. He was there during the athletic banquet the fateful night she supposedly died... he remembered that night, the quiver in her voice, the gray in her eyes, the tears that filled them. _She had to have known what was going to happen..._ Sakuragi's eyes widened at the sobering thought. But what reason would she have to hide? "She abandoned him," he quietly concluded, his hard gaze falling to the spotless floor of the laboratory.

Catching his friend's last words, Yohei took a moment to collect his own thoughts as he removed another CD from the thick holder, selecting the next song on cue. He took a seat next to the brooding redhead. "If that was the case, then why'd she even bother coming back?" The DJ fell back into his seat as he heaved a sigh. "No, I don't think she abandoned him. There has to be something more to it than that... much more."

Movement caught their eyes and they saw Yoshikawa slowly approach them.

"I... I was warned that you two might act the way you are now. I'm sorry that I wasn't prepared for it. I didn't know Nakamichi-dono's absence would affect you this much," he said quietly, his head turned to the side.

"Man, if you think we're shitting bricks now, wait till Mitchy finds out..."

Yoshikawa's brows rose. "Mitchy?"

"He means Mitsui," explained Yohei, his face still stunned at the revelation.

The spectacled man held his silence for a minute at the sight of the redhead's devastated expression on his face, not knowing the implications behind Sakuragi's words.

"Yoshikawa-san... what am I really here for? I mean, I don't understand what the hell's going on. The guy you sent to recruit me said that I was chosen for this job because I knew the right people. Why does that matter?"

Raked by the pairs of curious eyes before him, Yoshikawa found it hard to swallow the lump in his throat, the dangling headset around his neck forgotten. "Please don't misunderstand... you have more than met the qualifications of this job... and when I mean more, I mean that your knowing of the 'right people' matters greatly because you have a connection to the one person who could ultimately make or break the outcome of this whole experiment." Turning off the headset's connection to the control board, the spectacled man took his glasses off and met Yohei and Sakuragi's questioning eyes with a weary yet hopeful gaze.

"You know Mitsui-san."

* * *

On the lawn below, Reiko found it hard to concentrate after hearing the lab coordinator's words through her own headset. The sparring session had begun a few minutes ago, and evading Fuji's punches was becoming an increasingly difficult task for her, the guard's fists often coming within a hair's breadth of her face.

"Forget what you just heard and concentrate!" barked Jackson through his headset.

Gritting her teeth, she jumped backwards, meeting Fuji's oncoming kick with a block and swiftly crouching down to swipe the guard's leg, the guard losing his balance and falling to the ground. Bringing the back of her hand to wipe the sweat that pooled below her chin, she quickly took an engaging stance as Miller charged, taking Fuji's stead. Through the headset, data on her vitals flooded her earpiece at the fifteen minute mark as she dodged Miller's frighteningly swift punches, her lungs burning for air as she poured her efforts in her defense, her heart racing.

One guard down, three more to go.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Reluctantly rising out of bed, Mitsui fumbled his way into the bathroom, turned on the tap and washed his face in the dark. Leaning both hands against the sink, he turned the water off and reached for the towel hanging above the toilet, looking into the mirror after drying his face with only the dim light of the nightlight to illuminate his surroundings. _Man, I look like shit..._ Replacing the towel on the rack, he glanced at the luminescent glow of the hour hand on his watch.

Eleven forty-five.

Mitsui was taken aback; he didn't realize that he had slept over twelve hours, and now that he was wide awake, he didn't know what to do. He knew he was tired, but he didn't expect to be out cold for that long. He couldn't go back to sleep even if he wanted to, and there was nothing productive he could do at this hour of the night. He left all his work at the office. Returning to his room, he found his clothes laundered and folded neatly in a stack on his study desk, with a post-it note stuck to the towel on top of the stack.

'_Onii-chan -- welcome home!♥ Ami'_

Smiling at the note, he sat on the edge of the bed wondering if what happened earlier during the day had been real. He began to doubt himself, thinking that if he had been asleep that long, whatever took place may just have been passing dreams. He remembered playing basketball that morning and the old man in the bakery, the reckless driving through the hills, and that singing voice... Mitsui found himself staring at the wall, wondering if he had really been to that Italian restaurant looking for Fuji and for a desperate glimpse of her.

_Reiko..._

Yes, it had all been real, and whether the voice was hers or not, it didn't matter. He was doomed to chase every shadow or sound that resembled her, and this feeling of desperation would cling to him wherever he went. He closed his eyes for a moment as he recalled what he told his father that morning in the kitchen, the words still ringing clearly in his head.

"_I hate being weak..."_

Mitsui heaved a sigh as he got up and took the bundle of clothes from the study desk. _I'm a lost cause. _Finding his keys, he walked out of his room and found the light in Ami's room still on. Deciding to say goodbye before heading back to Tokyo, he knocked softly at her door, only opening to reveal a frantic-looking Ami, sheets of paper covering the bedroom floor and coloring pencils strewn all over. He gaped at the sight.

"Onii-chan, you're awake," she mumbled sleepily, letting him come in and then stopping him abruptly. "Oh, watch your step... one crushed sheet will cut my chances of winning."

Overwhelmed at the papers scattered, Mitsui nearly laughed out loud as he stepped gingerly over her work, finally taking a careful seat on her bed. "What's all this? You look like you're planning to take over the world," said Mitsui, still eyeing his surroundings.

"Not the world, Onii-chan. Just first place," she uttered softly before yawning.

"First place in what?"

"This design contest at school."

"Oh." Mitsui grinned as he watched her sink in her chair like some exhausted child laborer, her eyes barely open to look at him. "Do you need help?"

Her eyes flew open. "You'd really help me?" she asked in surprise, her childish voice making her brother laugh.

Going back to Tokyo would have to wait.

"Of course I would, you goober. Tell me what to do."

She clapped her hands in glee as she gathered the sheets off the floor into two stacks, giving one of them to her brother. The sluggishness in her voice disappeared altogether as she chatted gleefully, making Mitsui wonder where she got this burst of energy. He was to color the backgrounds of her drawings, Ami telling him to stay within the penciled lines and lighten the shading on certain edges. As he leafed through the papers, he was surprised at the talent his sister possessed, the lines of her sketches smooth and clean, impressive for such a young kid. After handing him a handful of coloring pencils, Ami threw her older brother a bear hug.

"Onii-chan, thank you for helping me! I love you forever!" she cheered, giggles bubbling from her throat.

Mitsui laughed once more as he unclasped her thin arms from his neck. "Okay, okay, just let me get started."

Beaming at him, she handed him a clipboard as a hardback for him to color on before taking her place behind her desk, crouching over her drawings, her tongue peeking in between her small pink lips in concentration. Minutes of silence soon followed, both engrossed in their coloring tasks, and one by one the sketches were filled with vibrant colors. Chancing to glance up from his work, he found his little sister slumped over her desk, her fatigued form finally succumbing to the weariness she showed earlier. Her burst of energy spent, Mitsui put away the work he was doing and approached his snoozing sister, gently lifting her up out of her seat and placing her in bed. Sleepy gibberish escaped her lips as tucked her in, immediately cuddling up to the stuffed animal that Mitsui placed beside her. He grinned. _I wonder what it would be like to be eleven again..._ The grin quickly disappeared; he knew his heart would never be as innocent as her little sister's, and he prayed that she would never have to suffer what he went through. He turned to walk back to the rest of his work when she faintly called out to him.

"Onii-chan... Ayako-neechan was looking for you..."

Returning to the bedside, Mitsui whispered back. "What did she want?" After several seconds of silence, he didn't think she'd answer back.

"... She said she saw her..."

Not understanding her garbled words, he patiently continued. "Saw who?"

Ami turned on her side and murmured softly into her teddy bear's ear. "...Reiko-neechan..."

His breath caught as he eyed his slumbering sister, suspecting that she was already in dreamland, thinking that she was seeing her in her dreams. He forced air into his lungs, wishing that just once, Reiko wouldn't reign his thoughts. He dismissed her drowsy words, deeming it useless to discuss a dead person with a sleeping eleven-year-old. _As if I haven't suffered enough... _Mitsui returned to the drawings and colored away, each stroke of the pencil on paper an unspoken hope that one day he would be able to color over this dark and empty time of his life.

* * *

Waking up to the electronic crowing of her rooster alarm clock, Ami shut it off and sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes open. Getting up, her eyes roamed to the desk where her sketches lay in one neat stack with a note scribbled on top. Rubbing her eyes once more, she smiled happily at her brother's rushed handwriting.

_Ami—_

_I hope I did these right. Good luck, I'm rooting for you._

_-- Hisashi_

Perusing the pages of sketches, she was elated that he had done what she had asked of him and more, adding definition to the sketches with cleverly shaded borders. Almost jumping with glee, she dressed in a hurry and was about to knock on her brother's bedroom door only to find it slightly ajar. Peeking in, she found the room empty, and the smile on her face disappeared. After noticing that the clothes she folded for him were gone, she concluded that he went back to his apartment in Tokyo. Pouting in defeat, she descended down the stairs and greeted her parents as she sat with them at the breakfast table, Mrs. Mitsui's brow arching at the frown on her face.

"What's wrong, dear?" she asked as she filled her husband's cup with coffee.

Ami sighed. "Onii-chan left and I didn't get a chance to thank him for helping me with my project last night."

Mr. Mitsui grinned. "Oh? You're more clever than I thought, making your brother do your work for you."  
A look of exasperation crossed her elfin face. "But if he didn't help me, I don't think I would've finished!"

Her father pinched her cheek in laughter. "I'm just teasing you."

The phone rang and Mrs. Mitsui rose from her seat to answer it, the phone pressed against her ear and shoulder as tried to place the bowls of miso soup on a serving tray. "Hello, Mitsui residence... I'm sorry, he's not in right now, may I take a message?... Ah, Miyagi-kun! I'm afraid he went back to Tokyo early this morning... I'm afraid I don't know... have you tried his apartment?... I see. What about his cell phone?... Hm, perhaps he turned it off. Well, I'll tell him you called... You sound a little distressed, Miyagi-kun, is everything all right?..."

A sharp intake of breath made Mr. Mitsui look up from his morning paper.

"... How is that possible?..."

By now, Ami's eyes drifted to her mother, the miso bowls forgotten.

"... But are you absolutely sure?... Miyagi-kun, you don't know how distraught he was yesterday... he's been trying so hard to forget... I don't want my son to stand on false hopes..."

All of a sudden, Ami let out a loud gasp, making Mr. Mitsui put his newspaper down altogether.

"Dad," she whispered, trying not to distract her mother, "I forgot to tell Onii-chan that Ayako-neesan called yesterday!"

Confused, Mr. Mitsui leaned closer to his daughter. "Just what is this all about?"

Ami continued to whisper into her father's ear when Mrs. Mitsui said goodbye and hung up the phone, all in the kitchen startled at Mr. Mitsui reaction.

"What?!"

* * *

Finding the neighborhood's basketball court empty, Rukawa Kaede parked his bike behind one of the cement benches, took his basketball out of his backpack and made his way to the free throw line as he dribbled the ball. Filling his lungs with the cool morning air, he poised for a shot and made the basket, retrieving the ball and shooting once more. He was relieved that no one else was there, and the court was his alone. He spent a good deal of time doing dribbling drills, coupling them with jabs and fakes at invisible opponents before making his shots. Absolute dedication alone drove him to pursue perfection, and it was a wonder even to himself that he could compel himself to wake up this early in the morning to play basketball, but when it came to waking up for class, he was barely conscious. It was all a matter of interest.

Making a bank shot, he took a break after an hour of non-stop play, walking back to the bench where his backpack sat and taking a large bottle of water out of it. Chugging a mouthful, he sat down and stared at the dew-kissed shrubbery before him, his mind at the moment filled with nothing but shot angles until he noticed a couple of old ladies walking past the court. He paid them no heed; there were a lot of retired people in the neighborhood, and a good number of them often walked to the park nearby to get their morning exercise. Feeling rested, he resumed play with outside shots along the three-point arc, different game scenarios flooding his mind. When he ran to retrieve the ball that bounced toward the bench, he saw three more old ladies walk past the basketball court.

A few more shots from the key.

Three more old ladies passed by.

A fake and a turn before a slam dunk.

Another four walk by.

By this time, Rukawa's curiosity made him pause practice to investigate the situation. Finding it odd that the whole geriatric population of this neighborhood would throng to the park all at once, he replaced his ball back into his backpack along with the bottle of water, got on his bike and followed the old fogies. As he approached the park, the expanse of the verdant lawn was dotted by so many people, most probably over the age of sixty-five; the distance between them two arms' length and their slow, fluid movements executed in unison and great concentration, their heads facing forward to mimic the movements of the person in front of them and ultimately the solitary figure ahead of the whole crowd.

_That's funny, he thought, she doesn't look old..._

Walking along the edge of the quiet crowd, he continued to study the person on whom the many presbyopic eyes rested, her form of unhurried, calculated grace calming and as she shifted slowly across the lawn, her many followers moving with her. Rukawa was taken aback at the sight of the woman's figure bathed in the morning rays of the sun, an ethereal sight before his scrutinizing gaze. Not too far away was a bench where a rather elongated dog sat, its patient silence remarkable to him considering the number of strangers before it. A few more steps and he stopped abruptly, his mouth slightly opening in surprise when the face of the lissome leader came into view.

She was the volleyball phenom who died several years ago, the one who stole Mitsui's heart and took it to the grave.

Rukawa was about to step closer when he saw her stand upright with her arms spreading out as if to pull the breath from air into her nostrils, her hands slowly moving parallel down her stomach and finally resting at her sides. At this point, her mimickers surrounded her with smiles and thanks, the dog on the bench jumping off and joining its master at her side, showing no hostility to the old crowd. Rukawa's eyes scanned the periphery and found four familiar men standing by some trees not too far away from the bench, confirming her suspected identity.

"Nakamichi Reiko," he muttered under his breath, his body remaining rigid at the astonishing sight before him.

It took a minute to realize that he was wasting his time staring at the spectacle before him, and he decided that he needed to inform his friend about this, no matter how unbelievable it may sound. Getting on his bike, he furiously pedaled away, his tall fleeting figure duly noted by Jackson's watchful eyes.

* * *

Approaching the door to his office, he quickly turned the doorknob and threw his briefcase on the armchair by the corner, the red blinking light on his telephone making him push the play button in apprehension. A loud beep sounded before a mellow voice spoke.

"Mitsui-kun, this is Nishikado. I would like to commend you for a job well done on the Suzuki plans. Because of the quick turnaround, they signed another contract with us for the next two construction projects. I'm emailing you the specifications they want for the next project, and this won't be due for awhile, so no rush. You've made the company a considerable amount of money today, so I'm giving you the rest of the week off. Thanks for your hard work and enjoy, Mitsui-kun."

_Well, that was unexpected..._

Turning on his computer, he left the desk for a moment to retrieve a few documents from his briefcase. Returning to his desk, he was overwhelmed at the email icon blinking at the corner of his computer screen, the number of messages hitting him like a ton of bricks. One hundred forty-one.

_I was only gone for a day_!

He clicked on the icon and a wall of unread messages displayed before his eyes, his eyes nearly crossing at the words filling the subject field. Looking at the senders' names, he frowned when he realized that they were all his friends from Kanagawa, the subject titles ranging from Ayako's 'Mitsui, this is important' to Sakuragi's 'Damn important, call me ASAP!'. Miyagi had sent him multiple emails as well, and so had Sayuri and even Nanami. _Important, important, important_. Thinking them to be childish chain letters, Mitsui highlighted all but the message that his boss sent him and hit the delete button. _What are they, in seventh grade?!_

After opening the file Nishikado sent him, he printed it before sitting back in his seat, recalling his boss' generous offer. Once the file was printed, Mitsui let himself sit for a while, his thumb tapping idly on the desk chair's arm rest. What exactly did he have time for, anyway? He was relieved that he had been given more work to do, though most of his colleagues at the office would've have dreaded to be handed such an important account to the firm. He predicted that he would probably pour himself entirely into working over the plans tirelessly to the point of exhaustion, but after that... what else was there to do? _Maybe this little vacation is a mistake..._ He couldn't even remember a single working day when he didn't put in less than four hours overtime. He was jolted out of his thoughts by the soft rapping at his office door.

"Come in," he bid, taking the printed file out of the paper holder and stacking the papers neatly in front of him.

The old secretary sauntered in, a stack of memos in one hand and a mug of steaming coffee in another. "Good morning, Mitsui-kun," she greeted, placing the mug in front of him. "You're certainly winning a popularity contest around here. Look at all these messages!"

"Good morning to you, too, Hasegawa-san," he beamed as he took the stack of memos from her wrinkly hand.

"Some of those messages are from girls, Mitsui-kun," the old woman winked. "I didn't realize you were so popular with the ladies as well."

Mitsui laughed. "I don't think that's the case," he replied, his eyes skimming over the names of the callers. _Sakuragi, Sakuragi... Miyagi, Ayako, Nanami... Miyagi, Yohei... Sayuri... Sakuragi..._ He let out a quiet sigh. "These are all my friends from Kanagawa."

"Maybe you kids have a reunion of some sort?" her aged tone suggested, far-sighted eyes noting the framed photograph on his desk. "She's quite beautiful."

"Huh?" Mitsui found her gaze resting on the portrait of the blue-eyed beauty smiling through the crystal frame. "Oh, her." He took the frame and looked carefully at the lines of the woman's face, wondering how many times he's looked at the photograph, his eyes never tiring of her warm, bright smile.

"Who is she?" asked the secretary, her voice nearly a whisper, careful not to disturb his musings.

After a long silent moment, Mitsui closed his eyes for a second before placing the frame inside one of his desk drawers. "She was my stretch partner," he replied, the crack in his voice nearly missed by the old woman's ears.

"Oh," she remarked, deciding not to press the subject. "Well, if you need anything more, I'll be at my desk."

Mitsui watched her walk through the door, her arthritic hand pulling on the door knob and closing the door gently behind her. He got up from his seat and turned to the window by the printer, peeking through the blinds at the numerous people milling through the streets down below. He smirked at the thought of taking off for the day, just him in his car without a specific destination, driving until the road before him ends. He was just given several days off, and it would be a shame to waste it being inside a building all day. _If nothing, I could shoot a few hoops with the guys._ Thinking back to the many messages he just received from his friends, he grimaced. Perhaps he'd be better off alone.

_For now._

He took the plans, stapled and threw them in his briefcase before shutting it. He pressed the record button on the telephone, waited for the beep, then spoke.

"You have reached Mitsui Hisashi's voice mail. I am taking a leave of absence and am unable to take your call at this time. Please leave your message after the tone, or, you can reach me on my cell phone. Thank you."

Leaving his office, he walked by the surprised secretary and thanked her for the many messages she took for him yesterday. Telling her of his little sabbatical, he took his leave and made his way to the elevator. As it descended to the parking garage, Mitsui suddenly wondered where his cell phone was.

* * *

Footsteps down the end of the hall made Yoshikawa look up from the charts and graphs he held in his hand. The four guards' statures were nothing short of daunting; it didn't help that he was almost a few feet shorter. Setting the thought aside, he greeted the men.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice."

Handshakes.

"So is everything okay?"

A pause.

"Well... we've analyzed all the data with the audio variable, and I just wanted to tell you gentlemen that you did a wonderful job on selecting a talented DJ."

Smiles of approval.

"Her reaction to musical rhythm was quite remarkable, giving us far better results than we've predicted, though we've yet to understand why it is she responds better to certain orchestrations than others."

A chart.

"As you can see, her blood pressure rose in anticipated progression and her heart rate paced with the music's rhythm as predicted. The strain of this exercise on her is great, and considering the fact that her body temperature rose to one hundred and one degrees, we need to take extra measures to prevent a heat stroke at all costs. Because of the body heat generated under these conditions, it's no surprise that the ionic transfer rate has accelerated beyond expectation. Dr. Nakamichi's predictions were right on the money."

A hesitant sigh.

Concern.

"However... I'm afraid that this strenuous exercise has proven to be far too efficient than we've expected..."

Jackson didn't like where Yoshikawa took the direction of his report, noting the reluctance in his voice. "What do you mean, 'too efficient'?"

Taking a few seconds to collect his thoughts, the lab coordinator took his glasses off and looked briefly at the ground, the gleam of the fluorescent light bouncing off the lab's floor and into his tired visage, the bags under his eyes clearly visible. "Nakamichi-dono's body is like a well-tuned engine... Her resilience is something to marvel at, down to the cellular level. Her nervous system reacts to stimuli quite well, particularly her sympathetics... when presented a challenge, she meets it head on... in other words, her fight response is well intact..."

Sakai gave Jackson a furtive glance, an ominous suspicion dwelling in the pit of his stomach.

"... But... Nakamichi-dono is far more complex than any man-made machine. Her body is influenced by so many factors, and after looking at the rest of the data, all of us are quite beleaguered by the results."

Jackson was getting impatient. "What exactly is the problem?" he demanded.

"Her sympathetic nervous system is too active..." the lab coated man trailed off meekly. "Normally during states of stress such as last night's sparring exercise, its activity elevates the way it did, raising blood pressure and heart rate. But even after the immersion chamber and several hours of rest, her heart rate remained aberrantly elevated as well as her blood pressure. She denies feeling different or odd, and her focus remains high when tested on her mental status. Chemical analysis revealed a significantly high level of epinephrine and norepinephrine, hormones which are released by the adrenal medullae caused by sympathetic stimulation from the brain under severe stress."

Unease.

"It's no question that higher centers of the brain can very well stimulate the autonomic nervous system, but with all that's happened to her, we suspect that her brain is overly stimulating her sympathetics... her brain scans revealed increased activity in the lateral hypothalamus... we believe this stems from emotional stress."

Yoshikawa noticed the guards stiffen at his revelation. He allowed Sakai to interrupt.

"Please explain this to us."

The lab coordinator took a second to collect his thoughts. "The hypothalamus, particularly the lateral area, is responsible for controlling thirst, hunger, and many emotional drives. Increased stimulation to the area causes a general level of activity in a person, sometimes leading to fighting and rage. It also causes thirst and hunger."

Jackson looked at Sakai knowingly before turning to the lab-coated man. "So why the loss of appetite?"

"Despite what we might expect from all this stimulation, other parts of the brain can counterbalance this phenomenon, the hippocampus, portions of the limbic cortex... in other words, in an effort to suppress her depression, she's taken the task of preoccupying herself in performing at her peak, and in pushing herself to staggering limits, she ignores the need for hunger satiety and chooses to distract it."

"She's just lost her only relative on this earth. It's not something that she can get over in a few days," retorted Sakai in exasperation.

"I am aware of that, which is why I ask that you find Mitsui-san immediately."

The lab coordinator received startled looks from the guards.

"I know all this is rather dense with medical terminology, but it all boils down to this. If she doesn't calm down, her sympathetic nervous system will continue to go into mass discharge. Her body won't be able to recover with rest, her metabolic rate will remain high, she will have very little appetite and she will waste away before our eyes. We need to find a means of pacifying her sympathetics quickly to allow her parasympathetics to kick in before it's too late."

Miller reached into his inside coat pocket for his palm pilot. "And you think Mitsui can make the difference?"

Yoshikawa pensively paused before replying. "With these overwhelming results, I don't know what to think anymore... but I'm willing to take a chance and believe in him." The lab coordinator wore his glasses once more. "Please excuse me, gentlemen. I have to prepare the substrate mix. Thank you all again for coming." And with that he gave them a bow before walking down the hallway, his footsteps echoing loudly through the hall.

Silence overcame all, and the men stood deathly still; their minds were preoccupied with the situation and its possible consequences, each guard aware that despite the strength and composure Reiko displayed before them, she was a fragile soul whose core was on the verge of breaking, if it hadn't already begun to fall apart. Sakai ruminated on what he had observed over the past few weeks. There wasn't much they could do unless they were asked, and it wasn't like they could force feed her; she ultimately had the power to decide. Reiko, being the obedient niece that she was, submitted herself to the team of doctors who were to carry out the last experimental instructions of her late uncle, without so much as a look of protest. The guards could've easily found Mitsui and taken her to him, whether he liked it or not; she, however, chose to delay gratification and decided that her uncle's wishes be done first, since they were, after all, really for her well-being. Miller tapped quietly on the PDA, his eyes slightly widening at the small screen, his voice cutting into every one's thoughts.

"Mitsui's just been given several days off from work."

His companions gave each other startled looks. Jackson smiled wryly at the irony.

"And he just _had to_ take off when we're about to look for him."

"Just fucking wonderful," grumbled Fuji as he dug for the car keys. "So what do we do now?"

All eyes fell on Jackson as he glanced at his watch. He took a moment to chew on the inside of his lip, his mind making a million different connections to all possibilities.

"We know that some of Mitsui's friends have already seen us and Nakamichi-dono, and it won't be a surprise if they've tried to tell him that she's alive. But my intuition's acting funny, and it's telling me that Mitsui has absolutely no clue of what's going on. His leave-taking at this inopportune time attests to that."

Assent.

"We'll split into two groups, each group will take turns in searching for Mitsui. Call his office and talk to the secretary. Call the DJ and his redhead friend, two of us will meet with them." Jackson looked down at this watch once more, before heaving a quiet sigh. "Better yet, call every person you can think of who might be able to get in touch with Mitsui, knock on their doors if you have to. Finding him will be faster if there are more of us looking for him."

"I'll go with Sakai," volunteered Fuji before reaching for his cell phone.

"We'll sweep over Kanagawa first," said Sakai.

"Good. Miller and I will keep watch over Nakamichi-dono. Meet at the restaurant at one," he said as they all turned the arrow on the bezel of their watches to the one o'clock position. "And try not to be late. She promised she'd try to eat more if we are all there."

The rest of the guards smiled inwardly in relief at Jackson's words as they filed out quietly out of the hallway. As they piled into the car, all save Fuji who was behind the wheel got on their cell phones and began scrolling through their directories.

* * *

"Hello, you have reached Mitsui Hisashi's voice mail. I am taking a leave of absence and am unable to take your call at this time. Please leave your message after the tone, or, you can reach me on my cell phone. Thank you."

Sakuragi slammed the payphone's receiver back onto its cradle. Grumbling curses in defeat, he tried contacting Mitsui's cell phone, his number imprinted in Sakuragi's steaming head after having dialed it so many times over the past forty-eight hours.

Ringing.

"Come on, Mitchy, pick up the damn phone," muttered the redhead.

A few more rings and Mitsui's voice came on.

"Hello—"

"Mitchy! I—"

"—You've reached Mitsui Hisashi. Sorry, I can't take your call right now, but please leave me your name and number and I will try and get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks."

Beep.

Deep breath.

"Damn you, Mitchy! Where the fuck are you?! Check your messages, you moron! I don't know how many times I have to call and tell you that Reiko-san's alive! Asshole, you better call me back, and expect an ass beatin' the next time I see you!"

Hanging up, Sakuragi glared at the phone as he retrieved his phone card. Emerging from the phone booth, he joined the rest of the gundan taking refuge from the hot sun on a wooden bench under the shadow of a large tree. Yohei threw his redhead friend a wary glance.

"No answer, huh?"  
Irritated, Sakuragi lashed out. "That prick... how in the hell are we going to find him?"

"Go to Tokyo?" Yuuji offered lamely.

"What about telling Gori and the others?" perked Noma.

Sakuragi plopped onto the bench next to Yohei and groused. "He's not at his apartment, he's not in the damn office, his shitty phone is probably off, and he's not at his parents' house." The redhead leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees and tried to smooth is knitting brow. "Where could he be?"

No one was able to answer.

"Sakuragi..." Yohei started, a small grin gracing his tired face. "I'm surprised at how much you're letting yourself get bent over this, and you used to hate Mitsui's guts. You've really turned around, man."

Irritated, Sakuragi turned to his best friend. "That shouldn't surprise you, he's not a bad person. You guys know how devastated Mitchy is over that woman, and if you saw your friend's dead girlfriend smile and bow to you without being under the influence of hallucinogens, then I think it's only the right thing to do to tell him. After all, geniuses are not just highly adaptable to their immediate situation, they also have an extremely high emotional IQ. "

Noma fought to suppress the snicker in his throat. "If that's the case, then you have a long ass way to go," he mumbled.

"You know, as much as I'd like to give you a head butt right now, I would rather pour my energy into finding Mitchy. If you guys are just going to sit there and shoot shit from your asses, that's fine with me, but don't waste my time," Sakuragi spat out.

Takamiya raised his hands up in protest. "Chill, Sakuragi. You know we're here to help, but you said it yourself. We don't know where he is, and we don't even know where to start."

Ohkusu nodded his head. "With the five of us, we can cover some ground... but I think it would be better if we told Miyagi and Gori about it. More people in our search party means more ground covered."

"Damn, Ohkusu! How'd you get so smart?" marveled Noma.

"I taught him," claimed Sakuragi, his earlier annoyance melting into a jeering grin.

Before laughter could erupt from their throats, Sakuragi reached for his ringing cell phone and noticed Yohei doing the same. Stepping away from their little crowd, each answered their calls and a few moments later reconvened with the rest with startling enthusiasm.

"That was Miyagi. He was with Ayako-san and he said they saw Reiko-san in the shopping district, he wants to meet up with us!"

Yohei smiled and nodded at the redhead. "Sakuragi, I got a better idea..."

* * *

Finally finding a parking spot two blocks away from the agreed rendezvous, Fuji unfastened his seatbelt and got out of the car, telling Sakai to go on ahead. Seeing his older colleague walk to the intersection, he took a moment to dig for change in his pocket and feed the parking meter some coins, his eyes quickly noting his busy surroundings, the car parked in front and behind their vehicle. Putting an hour's worth into the meter, he glanced at his watch and was satisfied that they arrived right on time, silently hoping that the others would be. Jackson was able to get a hold of Yohei and they have all agreed to meet him and the rest of Mitsui's friends at a small coffee shop in the shopping district. As he waited for the crosswalk to turn green, he couldn't help but feel the pressure of finding Mitsui immediately, and there was an unsettling, ominous premonition that churned his insides at the thought that if they didn't, the one they swore to protect might suffer more than she had to.

Seeing green, Fuji made his way through the intersection, weaving through the pedestrians headed the other way. In the corner of his eye, he spied a running figure approaching the corner, the courier bag that slung across her opposite shoulder jostling slightly as she darted down the sidewalk. A child holding his mother's hand suddenly appeared into her view and she deftly avoided tackling him, looking back for a second to make sure the child wasn't startled before crashing into a muscled wall. Wincing, she covered her cheek with a hand and quickly apologized before looking up at her victim.

_Sayuri..._

"Are you all right?" asked Fuji, his hand reaching for her shoulder and steadying her as she stood on her feet.

A gasp.

"You..." she trailed off, stunned at the man's concerned face before her, the throbbing sensation in her cheek nearly forgotten as her hand slowly lowered to her side, her eyes not blinking once at the sight.

"Sayuri-san," mumbled Fuji, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled warmly at his shocked assailant, his other hand reaching into his coat pocket for his handkerchief. Taking the cloth, he handed it to the bewildered woman who took it mechanically and placed it against her swelling cheek. "I'm so sorry for getting in the way... I just wanted to make sure it was you, I didn't realize how fast you were going."

At his words, she began to cry.

"You... you're alive!" she said, her voice cracking as she was overcome with tears. "All these years... the other day... in the pharmacy... and not a word!..."

Fuji felt intense remorse for the sobbing girl, her frame shaking as she wept. "I'm so sorry... I couldn't tell anyone—"

"You could've told _me_!" she cried out, the handkerchief against her painful cheek now used to dry her eyes. "It really was you at the pharmacy..."

"I wanted to tell you—"

"But you didn't!" she hissed, her eyes closing in bitterness, the feeling of betrayal welling up with her tears.

Fuji reached out to her and she met his touch with a fist against his chest, the force of the impact weak with doubt and relief and she began to falter. Supporting her with strong arms, Fuji held her close against him, cursing himself silently as she shook her head slowly against his chest and cried in defeat.

"You don't know how much... how much I cried when they told me Reiko-chan and you and the rest of the others died... and then I heard your voice talking into a cell phone at that pharmacy... how I wished for it to be you... and it was... it was!"

Fuji was beside himself, the impact of his absence just now realized as suppressed sobs escaped the poor girl's throat, filling the young guard with regret. "I'm so sorry, Sayuri," he quietly repeated. "Please forgive me."

He let her cry it out, let all the frustration and the hopelessness in her cries seep out; Fuji had no way of recovering the time and tears she lost in mourning for him. He had never been romantically involved with anyone before, and being told that he was severely missed and yearned for was as shocking to him as it was for her to see him alive, his cheeks burning at the tearful confession.

Her cries abated to quiet sniffles and she was able to stand firmly on her feet, still caught in the guard's embrace. Feeling ridiculous for crying and causing a pathetic scene in public though still having some doubt that it was really Fuji before her, she let her eyes meet the guard's repentant ones.

"I have a lot to explain to you," he started, wiping the last of her tears. "And I will, this I promise." Taking her by the hand, he began to lead her to the direction of the coffee shop. "I know you have a lot of questions, and we have answers, but we desperately need your help at the moment in finding Mitsui-san."

Her eyes widened. "Is he in trouble?"

"No, not really... I don't understand it myself, but Nakamichi-dono might be if we don't find him immediately," he said as they approached the entrance of the coffee shop.

"She's alive, isn't she?" she asked as he opened the door for her.

"Yes, she is..." he trailed off as he saw Sakuragi, Yohei and the others standing next to Sakai by the table in the far corner. "We have a lot of explaining to do."

* * *

Flinging his suit jacket onto the sofa, Mitsui undid his tie as he shut the front door of his apartment with his foot. Throwing the tie next to the jacket, he rummaged through the refrigerator for something to drink. Reaching for a can of juice, he opened and took it with him to his room, placing it on his dresser as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and took it off. He wasn't used to not having anything to do, and he thought of what he could do to kill all this downtime. Mechanically, he shrugged into a workout shirt and changed out of his suit pants into shorts. Taking a sip of juice, he changed out of his socks and put some white athletic ones on, his hand reaching for the basketball lying on the floor in the corner of his room.

_Basketball is always a good idea...._

Taking his keys and wallet, he walked out of his apartment and back to his car, opening its trunk to deposit the basketball in. Getting in the driver's seat, he noticed the faint glimmer of light bouncing off a black plastic material on the floorboard of the front passenger seat. Looking closer, he smirked as he picked it up. This was where his cell phone had been all along. Seeing the screen blank, he tried turning it on but to no avail. The phone had been out of his sight for almost two days, and he hadn't recharged it since he last saw it. He thought about going back upstairs to his apartment to recharge it.

_Ah, to hell with it._

He just made the company a ton of money, the boss had just given him some time off, the secretary knew about it, no blueprints or plans were needed attention, and he had no deadlines to meet. If anybody called him, they could leave a message. And if it was important enough, they will call again. Mitsui started his car and fastened his seatbelt, dismissing any importance of any phone call he might receive. As he drove out of the parking lot, he shrugged at the fact that he didn't even check his messages on his landline.

"Oh well," he mumbled apathetically as he waited for the stoplight to turn green.

* * *

Her hands clasped behind her back, she looked out the window in silence at the serene view of the lake, quietly greeting her uncle hello, the hurried bustle of the waiters and the kitchen staff completely ignored as the restaurant readied the tables for lunch crowd. She felt out of place, not belonging where she stood, not needed in the hustle of the things around her, feeling reckless and clumsy without even showing any evidence of it in action. Ever since she was put under the new parameters of her late uncle's experimental testing, she has become inexplicably anxious, as if her spirit was under fire and she suppressed the nonsensical urgency to leave her surroundings for the sole purpose of moving, of being immersed in a different setting...

_...of searching for him..._

Jolted by the sound of glass breaking, she turned her head to find a rather regretful waiter apologizing profusely to Yoshi as he carefully picked up the jagged pieces. The old proprietor assured the young waiter that it was nothing to fuss about and warned him to take care not to get cut.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It seemed like every one was a little tense, though she deduced that it was only so because she felt the same without rationale behind it. Turning her glance back to the lake, she suddenly blinked at the recollection of the day's date.

"Yoshi-san," she called out, "is today the fifteenth?"

Looking up, the old man stood and walked over to the reservation desk, opened the date book and nodded. "Yes, indeed," he answered, closing the leather-bound book. "The fifteenth of August. Why do you ask?"

She let lips produce a small smile at her thoughts. "I nearly forgot someone's birthday today."

"Oh?" remarked Yoshi, his old brow arching in intrigue. "And just whose birthday would that be?"

Her smile grew wider. "I will tell only if you agree to help me choose a fitting present for him."

The old man snickered. "Since when were you such a businesswoman?"

"You taught me how to deal," she said as she shrugged.

Overhearing their conversation, Jackson watched with some amusement as the old man spoke with her in hushed tones, knowing exactly who they were talking about. Smiling at their scheming whispers, the huge guard joined the wait staff in setting up the tables in the banquet hall. Seeing Reiko plot birthday surprises washed Jackson in a great wave of relief, and as he helped spread out fresh linen over the tables, he prayed to God that the lab coordinator's assessment of her nervous suppression was just an overestimation.

Minutes later, melodious notes of a rather whimsical-sounding song filled the restaurant, the music maker's hands belonging to the girl with gray eyes tapping and hovering over the piano keys with ease and precision, an rare air of contentment masking her face. It was a favor well-received by those who listened; the music helped to lessen some of the pressure the new waiters were under, and their steps seemed to quicken as they moved to and fro the dining hall.

The cell phone against Miller's hip vibrated and the young guard promptly answered the call. After several short replies, he sought out Jackson who stood next to the grand piano exchanging pleasantries with the pretty pianist. Leaning a few inches away from his ear, Miller relayed the details of what was to be expected in the minutes to pass. After their near silent parley, Miller was surprised to catch Reiko's eyes on him. A tad diffident, he acknowledged her.

"Lovely tune, Nakamichi-dono," he said, his hands folding behind his back in deference, the small, cryptic grin on her face unplumbable.

"Thank you, Mr. Miller," she replied, her eyes momentarily shifting to the piano keys under her long fingers.

And then, a playful, foreign warning.

"J'ai une surprise pour vous, Monsieur Miller."

Brows rising at the language, Jackson grinned and quietly took his leave and headed for the entrance of the restaurant, allowing the girl to toy with her musings. Miller, on the other hand, knew that he was the only one in the building aside from Yoshi who understood what she said, and he was both curious and reassured at the same time; it was refreshing to see a smile grace her beautiful face. He played along.

"What is it?"

A wider grin.

"If I tell you, the element of surprise would disappear."

Miller found himself laughing boyishly.

"You always liked playing Santa Claus."

She nodded as she played the last notes of the song.

"Only because you have not been naughty this year."

"I'm sorry to confess that when you weren't looking, I was behaving rather badly."

Their eyes locked in childish cheer before hushed laughter erupted between them. The creaking of the French doors opening wide distracted them both and their gazes now fell on the people that filled the foyer by the reservation desk. She quickly stood to her feet after recognizing the faces of the young women who quickly approached her with tears of joy and relief.

"Reiko-chan!!!"

All too soon she was enveloped by the many crushing arms of her former teammates, and she was unable to utter a word in her stunned elation. Her wide eyes strayed to those who watched the spectacle by the reservation desk, the tall frames of Akagi and the redhead Sakuragi, his DJ friend Yohei, the grinning face of Miyagi, and the stolid features of Rukawa parted her lips slightly in awe as Fuji and Sakai emerged from behind them with a nod of acknowledgement. She blinked as she felt warm liquid well up in her eyes, the vision of the guards quietly watching her blurred with the sudden prick of tears.

The four bodyguards now stood together as their gazes rested decorously on Reiko's tearful and happy face, her teammates smothering her with hugs and cries of relief. Jackson knew that the satisfaction he felt was short-lived, for despite having given her this much-needed homecoming, they had yet to find the one who would completely bring her home. Sakai caught his burly colleague looking at his watch, letting out a sigh as he returned his eyes to the heart-warming scene by the grand piano. This ephemeral occasion would soon be over, and the search for Mitsui will begin. But for now, they allowed her to revel in the warmth of her friends' embraces.


	23. Chapter 22 second half

Gasping for air, Mitsui left the burnt orange ball bouncing unattended in the middle of the basketball court, his legs threatening to give underneath him as he walked toward one of the wooden benches. Falling into the seat, he reached for the water bottle he took with him to the court, only to find it nearly empty with only a sip's worth of water left. More exhausted than disappointed, he allowed himself a few moments to cool down and rest before retrieving his basketball. He didn't realize how much fun dunking would be, but today's workout proved that he needed to work on his stamina more than ever. Mitsui grinned. It doesn't help that I'm getting older... Deciding to pack it in, he left the basketball court and threw his belongings into the trunk of his car. Opening the driver-side door, he collapsed in his seat as he started the engine. He sighed out loud as he turned on the A/C, the cool air liberating his hot skin. Mitsui glanced at the clock on the dash.

Three thirty-four.

_What do I do now?_

Fastening his seatbelt, he took a moment to think of what he would do at this time of day. He found himself frowning when he mentally answered, _Work, work and more work..._ . Mitsui began to drive, wondering at how drab he allowed his life to be. When he was asked to move to Tokyo with fully furnished lodgings, he agreed to do so without hesitation, and when he was given an impossible amount of work, he poured himself into it without a squeak of complaint. He lifted weights at night at a gym that was open twenty-four hours a day, and he stopped his workouts when his energy level was just enough to let him drive to his apartment, shower and crash on his bed. And when he didn't find himself exhausted enough, he worked on blueprints until he passed out on his desk. Crossing through an intersection, Mitsui recalled the night when he saw Tetsuo at the bar, the people he nearly beat up, the jokes he told, the confessions, the many shots of vodka, the transvestite... He shuddered at the last thought. Despite that, his brash friend who was quick to offer him a drink turned out to be the one person who put his pathetic life into perspective. People love, people die, people move on. _Well, _ought_ to, at least... _

And yet, he still felt empty... almost like he was cheated.

_... What else is new?_

Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, he sped through the green lights and thought of how a day-off with absolutely nothing to do was making him feel inadequate and even emptier now that he had no purpose, nothing to keep his mind preoccupied. Physical exertion was always a good escape for him, though it only lasted as long as his stamina did. If he rested two more hours, he could go to the gym and lift some weights, add more pounds to the bench press and eventually shock Miyagi one day with how much he can bench now.

_I wonder how he's doing... probably painting the town with Ayako._

Mitsui clenched his jaw in slight envy. Why was it that some guys have all the luck? He slightly shook his head as he entered a parking garage, parked into a space with his name marked with paint on a supporting cement pillar and shifted the car into park. Sitting quietly, he was zoned out for a minute or so before coming to the realization that he had inattentively driven back to his company's building, back to the place where he had willingly immersed his mind with numbers and lines on a computer screen and on paper in an attempt to block all other thoughts.

_Have I become senile? _

Getting out of the car, he grimaced as he opened the trunk and shrugged out of his sweat-soaked shirt and into a fresh one. It was true, and most likely very apparent to everybody else who knew him that he had taken this job to get away from her, from any object that she had touched and everywhere she had been. He just realized that this escape route he took in his mind had tried to take control even of his habits, to the point of mindlessly going back to the place where he could forget.

"_She was my stretch partner..."_

As he pressed the lock button on his car key, he cursed himself for even having that picture of Reiko on his desk, otherwise he wouldn't have been reminded by the old secretary of how painful it was to think about it. Getting into the elevator, he pressed the button for ground level and his eyes watched the doors as they slid closed, the numbered squares illuminating in a descending fashion until it lit the letter G. Emerging, he willed his legs to walk as far away from his company's building as possible, berating himself for being a weak-minded fool at the recollection of that morning's encounter with the secretary.

After several minutes of walking, his eyes idly gazed at his surroundings, looking through the shop windows and regarding the goods on display. He was a little surprised that there were this many shops around here, and he grimaced at the reason why he had not really paid attention to the shops and things around him whenever he decided to walk home instead of driving.

A black tuxedo.

Red purse.

A laptop.

Teddy bear.

A silver tie.

Mitsui let out a deep breath. He had not paid any of these things any mind in the past partly because he was so busy hurrying past every other pedestrian on the sidewalk to get back to his apartment, even though there was nothing at home that required any urgency. Everything else seemed a blur to him then, like he subjected himself into a tunnel with the path leading to his apartment the only thing he saw at the end. Waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, he realized how long he had been running away from getting hurt from the memories, memories of _her_... and when he crossed through the intersection, he slowed his pace in contemplation, eventually coming to a halt as his gaze dropped to the pavement.

_Coward_... _stop running..._

He cursed himself inwardly once again for his weakness, for not being able to make his mental skin a little bit thicker throughout this pitiful drama had to live through and hated every minute of it. He gently shook his head and allowed himself to smirk.

_It ends today._

Mitsui looked straight ahead and was about to begin walking when a bright gleam caught the corner of his eye. Glancing to his side, he found himself standing in front of the jewelry shop he had visited many days ago. The electronic doors to the shop slid open and a chuckling young couple walked out, whispering in each other's ear and strolling arm in arm.

"Hello, sir! It's good to see you again," called out the beaming saleslady as she moved behind the display cases. By that time the doors had slid closed, and Mitsui moved to enter the shop.

"Hello," he answered back quietly, his eyes adjusting to the brilliant lighting of the jewelry shop, jewels glittering marvelously under the stadium lights, one azure hue particularly catching his eye.

"So, it really was you outside the doors," she said as if to convince herself. "You were standing there for quite some time. Are you all right?"

Mitsui blankly nodded, his eyes remaining fixed to the display case that housed a lone blue diamond. The woman smiled.

"It really does leave an impression, doesn't it?" she softly commented as she took the key to the display case and opened it, taking the precious stone out of its brightly lit cage. Looking up to the lights, she moved directly under the stadium lighting and placed the open velvet box on the counter before her customer. "What do you think?"

Mitsui could only stare at the blue diamond, as if its brilliance held him in a trance he didn't know how to snap out of. A few more moments then he blinked, eliciting a grin from the amused saleslady.

"How much did you say this was?" he asked, surprised at his question.

"Well, this particular stone has been here a while..." she trailed off as she looked at the price tag under the box's lid. Mitsui noted the slight frown on her face. "It's still the same as before... but you know what? Let me make a quick phone call."

She took the box with her and walked to the phone in the corner of the shop, speaking in hushed tones and a minute later walked back to Mitsui.

"I spoke to my supervisor and she asked me if you really wanted this ring."

Mitsui paused to look at the azure gleam of the diamond once more before looking up at the saleslady.

"If I say yes?"

"I recall the price I quoted you at three million yen, but my supervisor told me that if you really wanted the ring, she could shave the price down to two and a half."

He gazed down at the ring for what seemed like an hour to the saleslady in pensive silence.

"That's awfully generous. Why are you so nice to me?"

A knowing smile.

"Because we have a soft spot for customers who space out when they think of their loved ones, and you were thinking of her out there."

A gasp.

Mitsui stared hard at the radiant stone.

A credit card.

"Sold."

* * *

Arriving at his apartment, he walked in to find the message light on his answering machine blinking madly. Pressing the button, he placed the small shopping bag and walked into the bedroom with his dead cell phone.

Beep.

"Mitchy, it's Sakuragi..."

_That's funny, he didn't refer to himself as 'The Tensai'._ He placed the cell phone on the charger and turned it on.

Charging.

"... I don't know how to tell you this, man, but Reiko-san's alive. Call me back."

Mitsui froze at the mention of her name, his ears not believing what he just heard.

Beep.

"Mitchy, where the hell are you? Reiko-san is alive, it's been five minutes and you haven't called... what the hell is taking you so long? Yohei and I are at some place in the boondocks called Lexicon Labs. Call me ASAP!"

Beep.

_What?!_

"Onii-chan, it's Ami. I forgot to tell you that Ayako-neesan called and told me to tell you that they saw Reiko-neesan the other day. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before you left, I think I fell asleep. Anyway, Mom and Dad are worried about you... do you think it's true? Please call us back!"

Beep.

"Mitsui-senpai, this is Ayako. I know you're not going to believe this, but Ryota and I just saw Reiko-chan on the street! She's alive! Please, _please_ call me back!"

Beep.

Mitsui hurried to the living room and stood by the answering machine, the color draining from his face, his heart beating madly in his chest and his head shaking in disbelief at what he was hearing.

"Mitchy, it's Miyagi. Hey... Aya-chan probably already told you, but I just wanted to say it again even if you don't believe me... I'm... I'm still pretty floored by it... We saw Reiko-san in front of Studio One the other day, complete with her bodyguard entourage... she's alive, man. I don't know if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but... just call me back soon, okay? Six five two, three six, zero nine."

Beep.

He listened to all thirty or so of his messages, probably more had he kept his count. They were all from his friends, some from both his parents and his little sister. Mitsui's eyes remained wide as saucers and the breath in his throat caught in between expirations, his heart ready to launch from his chest. As he listened to Sakuragi's voice bellow through the machine, he had a harder time letting his breath out at his friend's words.

"Damn you, Mitchy! Where the fuck are you?! Check your messages, you moron! I don't know how many times I have to call and tell you that Reiko-san's alive! Asshole, you better call me back, and expect an ass beatin' the next time I see you!"

_Good God... those emails..._

They had tried to tell him, even left messages with the old secretary, and he flatly dismissed them as some sort of prank.

Could this all be a prank? Mitsui somehow found the rhythm to his breathing again and ruminated on the possibility. If it really was a prank, they couldn't have picked a more serious issue to joke about; all of them knew how important she was to him, and to poke fun with like this would not only hurt his feelings, it would downright outrage him. Though this may be the case, he had never heard the sound of desperation or felt the gravity of the words which Sakuragi and Miyagi spoke, two people whom he knew were not of the serious sort.

"_Reiko-san is alive..."_

As real as his friends' and family's words were, as much as he had wanted to believe them, inside Mitsui grew a cutting, burning emotion, a feeling familiar and heavy in his heart, but this time, its teeth sank deep into the marrow of his soul.

Betrayal.

The old baker back in Kanagawa had told him about Fuji's existence...

So she had been alive all this time, staged her demise and succeeded in deceiving every one... and the woman who sang at the lake that morning, was that her?

_...And not one word!_

Mitsui thoughts raced, confusion set on his face as a furrowed brow as his emotions coalescing with surprise, disbelief, anger, relief and desperate longing. He was so absorbed at the revelation that when the lights flickered in the living room and remained off, Mitsui wasn't the least affected, his form sinking into a seat on the couch, the room completely dark.

* * *

After more embraces and words of relief, Reiko's unexpected and comforted visitors finally left Yoshi's restaurant after several hours with the promise to help look for Mitsui. Watching them pile into their cars, Reiko meekly waved goodbye to her friends and watched the cars drive off, the guards behind her pleased with the outcome of the surprise meeting. When they found her grey eyes looking pensively at the pavement as she turned around, they immediately thought that she was not as pleased as they were.

"Gentlemen," she addressed, her eyes lingering on the ground for a moment more before meeting their searching eyes. To their surprise, she bowed humbly before them, this payment of respect unanticipated by the guards. "I am indebted... I do not know how I will be able to repay you," she said, after which she stood erect before them once again, unwilling tears leaving twin tracks down her cheeks.

At this sight, she was surprised at the simultaneous offering of handkerchiefs from the men. A smile graced her face.

"Thank you," she uttered as she took Sakai's square cloth.

"I know how you can repay us, Nakamichi-dono," suggested Jackson, his bass voice hinting a lighter, playful tone. She looked up at the burly guard, her gaze full of question. "You can eat a whole plate of food for us."

Her eyes closed sheepishly as she grinned and nodded at the request, her hand gently brushing the handkerchief against the corners of her eyes as she moved toward the entrance of the restaurant.

"And a piece of chocolate cake, too," added Miller with a grin as he and the other guards parted a path for her to walk through.

They followed her to the entrance and Fuji opened and held the door for all to enter, earning a friendly pat from Jackson as he walked through. Inside, Yoshi motioned them to sit at the table closest to the piano where fine china, silver cutlery and dinner napkins were set. Waiting for her to finish her quiet exchange with the grinning proprietor at the corner of the bar, the guards stood by their seats, Fuji eyeing them curiously and throwing Jackson an inquiring look. As if reading his mind, Jackson merely shrugged in calm amusement as the rest of the guards looked to him for an answer.

Taking her place, she thanked the men for waiting as she sat down, the rest following suit. As they unfolded their napkins, Sakai noticed the small rosy smile that played across her lips, the healthy pink hue of her face that he once thought was lost now returning. Personally taking their orders, Yoshi playfully winked at Reiko as he jotted down Miller's selection, the act missed by the young guard but noted by the rest. Fuji nearly grinned but suppressed the urge, careful not to reveal to his colleague what he had just figured out. When the food arrived, they ate in silence for a while before she opened her mouth to ask about the weather forecast for the next few days. Jackson hid his surprise well as he drank the wine in his glass. It was the first time she made small talk in months. He watched her eat her food eagerly, like she was genuinely hungry, and the sight put him at ease. Quickly scanning the dining crowd, he turned his attention back to the table when he heard Fuji chuckle at one of her comments.

When the dinner entrées were consumed, Yoshi walked over with plates of chocolate cake per Miller's request. After placing a plate before her, the old man whispered quietly in Reiko's ear and earned a thankful grin from her as she nodded her head. The old man walked away with his tray and disappeared into the kitchen, the secrecy finally getting to Miller.

"So are you going to tell us what you've been scheming over?" he asked, waving a fork in mock sternness.

Forking a piece of the dessert in her mouth, she chewed patiently before answering the guard.

"Please look under your plate, Mr. Miller," she said, the other guards' eyes falling on her with eager curiosity. Obeying, Miller lifted his dessert plate up and found two small colored pieces of paper, one blue, the other red. His brows rising at the objects, he quickly swung his gaze back to her smiling eyes as he set the plate aside..

"Happy birthday, Mr. Miller," she said softly, the others grinning widely at the young guard as he looked at the colored envelopes once more.

"What's all this?" he asked, his face turning a light shade of red. Miller tried to play it off. "It's not even my birthday today."

Sakai rolled his eyes. "It's no use, Miller. You can't get one over her head."

She let out a small giggle at the compliment, delighting at the slightly embarrassed guard's awkward frown.

"Thank you, Nakamichi-dono," he said with a bow of his head.

"So does he get to pick which one he gets?" Fuji asked with childish eagerness.

"Yes and no."

Confused at her ambiguous answer, Miller sank back in his seat, the simple look of confusion making Jackson laugh. Miller looked back at her beseechingly. She grinned.

"Whatever you do not choose, the others get to keep. It is your choice, Mr. Miller," she offered, Miller catching a sparkle in her grey eyes he had not seen in so long.

Fuji grew more excited. "This is awesome!" he exclaimed, the grin on his face akin to that of a child on Christmas Eve.

"Actually," Miller began in embarrassment, his hand scratching the back of his head, "this is too generous of you."

Her head tilted in inquiry. "Did you have something else in mind?"

Eyes on the offerings, he took in a deep breath. "Honestly, if you asked me, I would've asked for you to sing for me."

She considered his request for a moment and smiled. "Which song?"

Miller was stunned. "Really? You'd sing for me?"

A nod.

"Only if you pick an envelope."

Heaving a quiet sigh, Miller timidly took the red envelope.

Miller was ceremoniously blindfolded by a laughing Yoshi with a table napkin and led outside, trying not to stumble in his footsteps as he grasped Reiko's tugging hand. Halted, he waited in apprehension as he heard the whir of what sounded like a hydraulic lift, his ears straining to hear for more clues to his present. A minute passed and he felt fingers untie the blindfold, her voice quietly wishing him a happy birthday once again. Opening his eyes, Miller gaped at what he saw, small gasps escaped the other guards' throats.

Four red motorcycles, each one of the latest and of a different make and model, were parked before him in showroom fashion, a large moving van with its driver standing in wait behind the motorcycles. The gleam on the bikes' red finish was something of a mesmerizing sight to Miller as he was drawn to move toward the parked bikes, his hand touching the seats with an awed tenderness of a lover's caress, the reaction pleasing Reiko immensely.

"Forgive me if I read through your profile, Mr. Miller. Had I not done so, I would have never known that motorcycle racing was your passionate hobby," she said, grinning guiltily at the guard who was in a world of his own.

Jackson let out a laugh before patting her on the shoulder. "I think in this case, silence means you're forgiven."

Fuji ran to Miller's side and inspected the brand new vehicles for himself, hunching down to admire the engines and wheels with oohs and aahs. Miller was beside himself.

"Are all of these for him?" Fuji asked over his shoulder.

"Mr. Miller gets to have first pick. The rest you will have to choose amongst yourselves."

The older guards looked at each other before voicing their gratitude quietly, despite their surprise.

"So what'll it be, Miller?" piped Fuji eagerly.

Throwing a sweeping glance at the bikes, Miller brought a hand to the back of his head in indecision. "I don't know... I mean, they're all nice bikes..."

Fuji whined. "Why does it even friggin' matter? If you want to ride the other bikes, just borrow ours!"

Miller felt like a dunce. "Good point."

Their spectators chuckled at their friendly argument as Miller showed them his choice in mounting the Yamaha R1 motorcycle, earning a nod of approval from Fuji. Gripping the handlebars, Miller relished the feel of sitting on what was once his favorite hobby. He was a little surprised to be approached by the driver of the van with a helmet, a riding suit and driving gloves, all bearing a black, red and silver pattern. Overwhelmed, Miller dismounted the bike before thanking the deliveryman, taking the accessories handed to him before swinging his attention to the quiet woman who made all of it possible.

"I... I don't know what to say... Thank you so much, Nakamichi-dono," he said, bowing courteously before her.

She smiled and greeted him a happy birthday yet again. And for the young guard, it was indeed a very happy one; he had received much more expensive gifts in the past from her, but never something that struck him so personally in his heart. Asking permission for a test ride, she happily agreed before retreating to the restaurant where dinner was to be paid with the tickling of the ivories. The older guards lingered a while outside to watch the younger ones play with the new toys.

Inside, she sat on the piano bench for a silent minute and thought back to the delight on her bodyguard's face. Happiness was a wonderful thing, and he glowed with it; the look of wonderment in his face when he was reunited once more with his first love was something curious to her, something she had envied when she watched him touch the steel of the motorcycle tenderly. _It is not enough..._ She suddenly found herself unsatisfied with experiencing this happiness vicariously through her guard's reaction, and the unexplainable urge to up and leave filled her being with dread, for this was a feeling she could not understand and was afraid to find out should she act on impulse. She brought herself to quell the desire to flee, silently reasoning that there she had no reason to do so as she stood straight in her seat and thought of what song to play. Just as her fingers struck the first few keys of a song, she abruptly stopped and bent over slightly, her eyes tightly shutting as she winced in pain, her head slightly tilting down. As soon as she recovered from that momentary shock of pain through her head, she looked around her nervously, checking to see if the guards saw her, only to see Yoshi weave through the busy restaurant and approach her with concern in his eyes.

"Dear, are you all right?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Silence.

"I am fine... Please, say nothing to them."

"But—"

"Please...?"

Wide-eyed at her request, he couldn't deny her pleading grey eyes, the fright in them causing him to nod without further question.

* * *

Puffing on his half-consumed cigarette before signing a purchase order on a clipboard, Tetsuo directed the deliveryman to take the boxes of liquor to the back. Watching the man wheel the goods on the dolly, Tetsuo turned to go back inside the bar before a voice on the sidewalk called out to him. Pausing to look, he flashed a wide grin at his visitor, glancing quickly at his watch.

Seven thirty.

"Kinda early to get smashed, Mitsui," he said, meeting the grip of Mitsui's extended hand and shaking it.

Mitsui wore a small grin as he shrugged. "I was given the day off, I've got nothing better to do. That, and the power went out in my apartment."

Tetsuo's smirk grew wider. "Well, come on in, I just got a bunch of good poison delivered today," he reported as he walked behind the bar, Mitsui taking a seat in front of him. "They even gave me small samples of it," he snickered as he held up several small bottles for his friend to see. "So... since you got nothing better to do..." Tetsuo trailed off as he took two whisky glasses from the cabinet. "And I obviously have some quality control to do here... why don't you help me out?" he asked as he untwisted the caps of several bottles, taking one and pouring some in both glasses. "We can call this 'The Mitsui Happy Hour'."

Mitsui forced himself to laugh as he took the glass in his hand. "Sounds good."

A clanging of glasses.

"Doesn't it always?"

After many taste tests, Mitsui had to stop Tetsuo from pouring him another drink. Having an unusually high tolerance to alcohol, Tetsuo whined like a child why Mitsui was being such a wimp, recapping the bottle in acquiescence as he took a drag of a freshly lit cigarette. Replacing the bottles back below the bar's counter, he caught Mitsui looking out the street, his eyes distant and lost in some memory.

"You're not drunk already, are you, Mitsui?" Tetsuo sneered.

"No, no..." he trailed off, a quiver audible in his voice, "... I just have a lot on my mind lately."

Tetsuo grunted.

"Why're you here so early, anyway? Shouldn't you be lifting weights or shooting hoops or something?"

Mitsui brought his attention to his whiskey glass that still had a gulp or two left, swirling the contents. "I already played some basketball earlier..." he replied, his eyes blank at the whirling liquid before him. Tetsuo didn't like it one bit. He slapped Mitsui lightly on the cheek, startling him out of his daze.

"Mitsui! Wake the fuck up!" he snarled, taking a drag off his cigarette and blowing it on his disoriented friend.

"I'm awake!" Mitsui retorted, coughing at the smoking.

"Well, if you're so awake, you mind telling me what the hell's gotten your boxers in a bunch?"

Mitsui finally met Tetsuo's demanding gaze, hesitating for a moment before reaching into his pocket to produce a small velvet box and placing it onto the bar before his friend. Tetsuo arched a brow as he let his cigarette dangle lazily between his lips.

"I'm flattered, Mitsui, but I'm sorry. I'm completely straight and spoken for," he said as he leered at his quiet friend. When he didn't react, Tetsuo knew that there was something that seriously bothered him. "Hey, come on now, what's this all about?"  
"Open it."

Pausing to study Mitsui's blank face for clues, Tetsuo placed his cigarette on an ashtray before taking the box. Upon opening it, a whistle escaped the bartender's mouth. "Damn, Mitsui... that's a pretty rock! Who's it for?"

"It's for her."

"Who?"

Tetsuo nearly asked again before Mitsui answered.

"My dead girlfriend."

Tetsuo sucked in a breath and set the small box back onto the counter. _He's losing it_...

"Mitsui, are you listening to yourself?! You said so yourself, she's dead—"

"She's supposed to be dead!" he said abruptly, his bitter words spoken as if to convince himself more than his startled friend behind the bar. Tetsuo didn't know how to react to his outburst and patiently waited for Mitsui to tell him more.

"I don't know what to think, Tetsuo... I didn't know what to do with all this damn free time they gave me, so I wandered the streets aimlessly... I don't know why I went inside that jewelry store... I just saw the diamond, and by the time I blinked my eyes, I was walking out of the store with this box in a little shopping bag."

Tetsuo felt awkward; for some odd reason, Mitsui's demeanor was making him a little nervous. He reached for two shot glasses overhead and a bottle of the best tequila in the bar as Mitsui continued, pouring them both a shot of the golden poison and setting Mitsui's shot glass next to the one containing whisky. Tetsuo chugged his shot quickly.

"And then I get some thirty messages on my answering machine, all of them telling me that Reiko is alive."

The bartender choked at Mitsui's last words, the stinging burn of the alcohol strangely sharper than it was before. After a fit of coughing, Tetsuo glared at his friend.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he barked, wheezing a bit after the last of his coughs.

"That's just it, man... I don't know... I think... I think I'm really fucked up, Tetsuo, like I don't know what's real anymore... I'm obsessed with her, so much to the point of putting myself into debt buying this blue diamond, knowing that it won't do me any good to look at it and think of her blue eyes... My God... I can't fucking let go, not even in death...! And now all my friends, even my family say she's alive!... I don't know what to believe... it's like the whole world's been pulled from under me... And I can't help feeling betrayed, even if this is a joke... and if it's not, why wasn't I told earlier... is it even true...?"

_Shit, he's really lost it!_ Tetsuo never thought Mitsui would ever hit mental rock bottom like he was displaying at the moment, his face twisted in disturbing pain unimaginable to him, his brow furrowed in confusion and breathing a little ragged. He watched as Mitsui took the shot glass, drank its contents before sliding the glass vessel towards him. He wiped his mouth his sleeve, slightly shaking his head as he leaned his elbows on the bar, his face buried in both hands. Tetsuo didn't know what to tell his friend, and the alcohol obviously wasn't helping. If anything, it might just make him more of a wreck. The image of Mitsui, one of the stronger people he knew in mind and body, crying in front of him wasn't something he wanted to see; he wouldn't know how to react.

"Hey..." he said, patting his buddy's sagging shoulder, "come on, Mitsui... try to pull it together... if not for yourself, then for me at least." And then timorously, "I only know how to console women... I got no experience with men."

To his surprise, Mitsui began to laugh at his joke, genuinely at first before his laughter changed into bitter sobs, his head slowly falling to rest on his folded forearms on the cold bar. "I'm losing my mind..."

Tetsuo was dumbfounded and found it difficult to swallow, his throat going dry at his distraught customer. He quickly took his cigarette, took a couple of drags to calm himself before speaking.

"Mitsui, what good will all this sniveling do right now?" he asked as tried to cover his uneasiness with the situation in getting a plate of peanuts and setting it on the counter. The moment his hand mechanically tossed a few in his mouth, the bartender found his composure and let out a sigh.

A pause.

"Okay... how bad do you want it to be true?"

Shock.

"I mean, if you're so damned obsessed with her like you say you are, wouldn't you give anything, _everything_ just to see her again?"

Mitsui wiped his angry tears away before raising his head to look at his friend.

"Good, that got your attention," the bartender said with a derisive grin. "Now... let me give you _my_ rich two cents. When you walked into this bar, you were wearing pants. All of a sudden, you show me this blue rock and poof! You've got a skirt on, bawlin' and shit..."

Mitsui wanted to laugh at Tetsuo but couldn't pierce through his own air of dejection.

"And you know what else? I think I already know your answer to my question. You _want_ it to be true. You want it to be so fucking true that you even bought a damn rock without having been told she's alive."

Silence.

"I always knew you were a little insane in the brain, but not at this ungodly level. And to think that the one guy in our gang whom I thought would never finish high school ended up being the most educated in our rotten bunch... in doing that, you've proved to everybody, even me of all people, that the impossible could happen."

A billow of smoke.

"So forget all that bull I told you about resurrecting the dead... maybe she really was. Maybe she never died."  
Peanuts.

"Remember all that shit you told me about you needing a miracle from God? Well, maybe that's just what you got."

Consideration.

"And so the hell what if you feel betrayed? Boo-hoo, too bad for you! Unless you get your butt out of the cry gutter, I can't help you. And if you let that keep you from the truth, I will personally give you a boot up where the sun don't shine, so you can stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself. Now, here's what I suggest you do..."

Puff.

A coin.

"Heads, you stay here and mope around until I get tired of lookin' at you and beat your ass."

Peanut.

"Tails, you go wash the grief off your face, get behind the bar, help me restock all this liquor on the shelves _then_ I beat your ass. We can do whatever you want after that."

Toss.

"So what'll it be?"

The coin landed on the back of Tetsuo's hand and on contact he immediately covered the result with the other, waiting for Mitsui's decision. His friend looked like a fixture before him, and had he not moved his mouth to answer, he would've thought he was a rock.

"I guess either way I'm gonna get hurt," he said, lamely forcing a smile.

The gruff bartender shrugged, knowing he was referring to the consequences of his plight. "Physical pain will only numb the emotional. Either way, the truth hurts. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Besides, it'll give you some time to think about what happened today. I don't want you roaming the streets again trying to buy anything that resembles your woman. You might just try to sell yourself," he added, and he immediately regretted saying his last words after getting nauseous at the very thought. "So pick already, damn it!"

"Tails."

Tetsuo lifted his hand and revealed the face of the coin.

"Tails it is," he declared before replacing the coin in his pocket. "Now go freshen up," he said, throwing Mitsui a towel from under the bar and cracking a grin on his face. "You look like shit."

* * *

Beep.

"Hello, you have reached Mitsui Hisashi. Sorry, I can't take your call right now, but please leave me your name and number and I will try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks."

A second.

"Mi-chan, this is Nanami. Akagi and I are standing outside your door... all of us have been looking for you, and we... we saw Reiko-chan today at that Italian restaurant in the hills... where are you? We miss you... and I'm sure she misses you more. Please, call us soon."

Akagi stood by his former teammate's front door with his jaw clenched, and the idea of breaking down his door and waiting inside Mitsui's apartment didn't sound so bad to him at the moment. When Nanami told him the details of Sayuri and Ayako's encounter with Reiko and her guards, he couldn't believe it; when Nanami persuaded him to leave his basketball practice early to meet her at some coffeehouse, he dared not refuse her. After getting to know her all these years, Akagi knew that Nanami was a romantic at heart and she was willing to cling to every hope of Reiko being alive. He just didn't want her to get crushed should she be proven wrong. But when they saw Sakai and Fuji at the coffeehouse, Akagi was compelled to help look for Mitsui as soon as possible and for as much as he can help, knowing that bringing the matter to Mitsui's attention would give his friend ultimate redemption.

"Damn it," he growled in a fruitless attempt to turn the doorknob.

"Where could he have gone off to?" Nanami asked blankly as she looked out to the street.

"I don't know, but I want to kick the door down," he said, getting a startled look from his girlfriend. "It'd be better to break in and wait inside before we get rained on," he added as he looked up at the starless, cloudy night sky. "And why is it so dark out here? Didn't he pay his electric bill?"

Noting his growing irritation, Nanami scanned the hallway and noticed that every lamplight by each door was also unlit. "I think the power's out."

Akagi merely grunted, his impatience melting at the touch of Nanami's hand on his muscled forearm.

"I saw a noodle shop around the block, and since we haven't eaten, why don't we wait there and get something to eat in the meantime?" she suggested as she gave Akagi a pleading gaze, and it was enough to crumble any trace of refusal.

He watched her reach into her purse and produced a pen and a piece of paper, and Nanami leaned against the door to write a message for their missing Mitsui. Folding it, she wedged it between the door and the door frame before finding Akagi's thick hand and tugging on it, the soft act endearing to him.

"Let's go," she entreated, the small smile on her face reassuring to the hulking athlete and he wordlessly followed her down the street.

* * *

In the silence of the women's restroom, the sound of a comb going through thick tresses of long black hair whisked audibly throughout the room, attentive grey eyes following the comb's course through the strands of hair. Parting her hair down the middle, she began a long, complex French braid on each hemisphere of her head, the strands between her fingers intertwined and locked in a beautiful weave, its final form coalescing with the braid on the other half of her head to form a tight and intricate bun, held in place by several concealed pins. Her hair had gotten so long that it had become cumbersome to run unless she braided it, much less train with her guards.

She let out a tired, desperate sigh.

Her uncle must have known from the start that maximally increasing her metabolism coupled with nervous stimulation were going to give him and his lab assistants the impressive results they have reported after climbing out of the immersion chamber. Despite this, she caught the wary look in Yoshikawa's eyes after getting the brain scan results a few days ago, and it was extremely unsettling the way his watchful eyes betrayed his pitiful sentiments. She accepted the small discomfort of scrutiny as negligible and tried to think of it no more. The doctors working on this experimental study were strongly convinced that the immersion process would produce a hundred percent efficacy rate, a feat that would surpass past results by some twenty more percent.

Numbers.

It didn't matter how or what happened on the exercise field: all that really mattered for this task were numbers, numbers that she promised to produce for her late uncle. For her, it went beyond familial obligation to undergo these experiments; her uncle always left the choice up to her, though the last time he asked her to go through with his laboratory studies, she heeded his urgency to complete them and succeed. Their end results would only be for her good, and will allow her to live self-sufficiently. The last means to a good end. Looking at the mirror, she checked her handiwork for stray hairs or frayed ends, dismissing the few she saw with a deep breath. It's not like it would matter much; evading her guards' blows and producing results were far more important.

She walked to a metal closet in the corner of the restroom and took out the black wet suit which hung on a hanger inside. She inwardly groaned at the object as she reached for it, for she knew that donning this suit meant that she would be driven to the point of exhaustion. As she stepped into it, she tugged at the zipper halfway and it caught in a momentary snag, the incident flooding her memory with sure hands that helped zipped her into a dress some odd years ago. Briefly, she closed her eyes and Mitsui was all she could see.

Suddenly, pain pierced through her head like a lance was splitting her head in two. Zipper forgotten, both hands flew to cradle her temples, increasing the pressure against them in an attempt to squeeze the offending ache out as it weakened her to her knees, her mind desperately screaming for the pain to stop. She closed her eyes and her body doubled over into a fetal position, so completely helpless was she that tears began to leak from her tightly shut eyes. A whole minute passed before the pain had abated, her jaw remaining clenched and her body still lying rigid against the cold chill of the restroom floor. Fear overtook her. Never before had she experienced headaches like this, and it provoked more tears of anxiety from the corners of her eyes. She grew to fear what she didn't understand, now more than ever, for she had no one she could comfortably run to with her fears and questions. Not wanting to rouse worries or suspicions after last night's episode at the restaurant, she kept the headache a secret, even begged the old butler not to tell. There, in front of the mirror, she silently admitted to herself that she no longer felt secure in this sterile, sheltered environment ever since her uncle died. What was once relaxing and comfortable to her now felt like a gilded prison she forced herself to inhabit.

_Flee..._

More tears left her eyes when she got up to turn on the water to wash them away. She willed composure to come back to her senses, and as she turned off the water, she looked at the mirror once more, her heart beating uncontrollably at the outrageous thought of running away. It won't do any good, and the last thing she wanted was to give her guards more things to worry about. Bringing a hand to her chest, she tried to slow her pulse down by taking slow, deep breaths.

_Escape..._

"What's happening to me?" she mumbled, her voice quivering in her delicate throat. For a moment, she bowed her head in worry over her vulnerable state before reaching for a towel to dry her face. Several knocks on the door startled her and she shook in her bones, her teeth close to rattling.

"Nakamichi-dono, everyone is ready... is everything all right?" a bass voice asked, her mind's eye seeing Jackson listening on the other side of the door for her answer.

"Y-yes, I will be out shortly," she stuttered, her clutch on the towel growing tighter.

Reiko hurriedly put the towel away in the closet, looked at herself once more in the mirror and ordered herself to calm down before stepping out of the restroom.

_Concentrate..._

Before she stepped out to the exercise field, she was outfitted with a number of sensor patches that the doctors placed over chest and finally a wireless headset that allowed the others to communicate with her. After being asked why she wasn't wearing the hood that came with the suit, she lamely replied that she couldn't fit her hair into it because of the bun. Answered with dismissive shrugs, Fuji and Jackson led her through the exit doors that led to the field, the climate outside muggy and portent of the rain to come. On the lush grass, Miller and Sakai were already stretching out for the evening's long workout, their voices muted through her headset.

"Can you hear me, Nakamichi-dono?" a static-filled voice asked.

Looking up, Reiko saw the lab coordinator wave at her, along with a taller figure beside him with headphones around his neck. The corners of her mouth slightly turned up at the sight, returning the wave at Yoshikawa and Yohei.  
"Shall we begin?"

Drawing a deep breath, she reluctantly nodded and raised a thumbs-up.

"Yohei-san, if you please."

* * *

Tetsuo proved to be a harsh taskmaster, forcing Mitsui to lift cases and cases of alcohol to the bar, and just as soon as he had finished that, the bartender had more boxes of empty bottles in the corner for him to take to the recycle bin outside. Mitsui uttered not one complaint, and this somewhat bothered Tetsuo; he wanted to poke Mitsui's frustration out of him through physical exertion, and there went his ex-gangster friend through the back door without a peep, quiet as a mouse. Snuffing the remains of his cigarette out in an ashtray, Tetsuo scanned the inhabitants of the bar, finding mostly businessmen unwinding after a hard day's work and a handful of college kids by the back wall. Surmising that at the quiet, efficient rate Mitsui was at, he will have cleaned out the entire bar of empty bottles and completely restocked the shelves. Tetsuo grimaced. That wasn't good.

Outside, Mitsui wiped the sweat that beaded his forehead as he crouched and placed the rest of the bottles into the glass recycle bin. Getting up, he entered the bar's back door, and once in the long hallway, he wanted to laugh at himself at the absurdity of tonight's events. He just bought a twenty-five million yen diamond, Reiko was supposedly alive and here he was, taking out the trash for his good friend who promised him a beating after all his hard work. Surreal as it was for him, all of it, particularly the part about Reiko being alive, still left him reeling in shock and confusion, not to mention speechless before an astonished Tetsuo. _Poor guy, having to baby-sit a crybaby like me._

Mitsui rounded the corner and found Tetsuo whispering into his manager girlfriend's ear, his unknown words earning him a playful grin on her face as she nodded in agreement. Noticing his friend's presence, Tetsuo finally introduced the love of his life to Mitsui, and she was everything Tetsuo was not: elegant, sweet, and courteous. When she retreated into the back office behind the bar, Mitsui couldn't help but wonder at how she and Tetsuo even got together. It was like the oddest pairing he had ever seen.

"Guess what, Mitsui? Tonight's your lucky night," jeered Tetsuo, unlit cigarette between his grinning whites.

_Uh-oh._

"Are you going to kick my ass now?" Mitsui asked in steely anticipation.

Tetsuo revealed no more and motioned him to follow as he sauntered princely behind the bar. He lit his cigarette, took a drag and blew I in Mitsui's face, making his depressed helper cough at the smoke. "I think I'll give you a reprieve tonight. In about ten minutes, you will become the first student of the Tetsuo Bartending Academy."

"The what?"

"So for starters, I want you to make sure that there's enough drink glasses for fifty people—"

"Fifty people?!"

"—Get the margarita and daiquiri mixes off the shelf and fire up the margarita machine. The bag of rock salt is in the last cabinet to your left."

Mitsui merely scratched his head and rolled his eyes at all this. It was the middle of the week and the bar was pretty empty.

".... Are you throwing a party of some sort?" he inquired, searching for the mixes.

Tetsuo grinned as he helped his slave ready for the onslaught of guests. "Why, yes! How astute of my pupil! It will be one of the most colorful parties you'll ever have the pleasure of hosting."

Mitsui didn't like the sound of the 'hosting' part. He was beginning to regret spilling his guts to Tetsuo; for as long as he's known the guy, Tetsuo always aimed to solve problems in the oddest and most unexpected of ways. So now, not only did he get to work for free, he was going to be schooled in legally intoxicating people. He suspected an evil plot brewing in Tetsuo's head when he caught the bartender snickering to himself with conspiring, almost evil eyes. It lifted his spirits somewhat that somebody was enjoying himself amidst all his confusion. The truth could hurt him, but it could wait. He needed to clear his head, even if it meant subjecting himself to Tetsuo's extreme whims.

* * *

Yoshikawa frowned at the wall of monitors before him. Not even three minutes into her warm-up and Reiko's heart rate was running at a skyrocketing pace. Crossing his arms in thought, he watched as the line graph on the pulse monitor matched the beat of Yohei's music, the rate alarmingly faster than before. The numbers kept increasing and the line kept climbing, the sight hurling the lab coordinator in a slow rise of panic.

In the middle of the halogen-lit lawn, Reiko was lost in a restless, stifling world where the rhythm of her heart and the motions of her form quickened to the pulsating music that reverberated around and within her. In the pit of her stomach grew that now familiar urge, that inexplicable compulsion to flee which she has learned to fear. As her arms sliced through the air in high then low graceful arcs, she fought the impulse to run. For what reason, she didn't know. This sensation was ridiculous: if she should run, what would she be running from? More importantly, where would her destination be?

_Absurd....._

The lack of logic for it all frustrated her even more, wanting this feeling to go away and yearning explanations. Her concentration began to wane.

Voices flooded through her earpiece as she fought to regain focus, streams of words stating her current vital status, others reporting brain activity, and a nervous Yoshikawa urging her to calm down.

"Warm-up ending in T minus one minute."

_Go away....._

Her jaw clenched as she went through the last few forms of her exercise, her breath catching in her throat as her heart continued to race and pace to the beat of the music. She spied Fuji walking slowly towards the middle of the exercise field, her insides quivering at the sudden apprehension that rushed through her veins, erratic breathing increasing.

â™ª ... _I need a spirit who can touch my life... _â™ª

"End of warm-up. Begin sparring exercise."

The guard wasted no time and initiated the first attack, his fist aiming for Reiko's stomach.

â™ª ... _I need a voice to speak the truth... _â™ª

As soon as she saw Fuji strike, every motion around her slowed in Reiko's panicked perception, her forearm barely deflecting the blow in time to defend herself. She no longer heard the melody of the music. All that boomed through her ears was the hammering beat of her heart. She retreated some distance away from the puzzled guard, the harrowing look of fear on her face taking Fuji by surprise and stilling him to a passive stance.

"Nakamichi-dono?" he called out, his eyes following her as she rounded him warily, grey eyes intense on him.

No response.

On the sidelines, Jackson sensed the worry in Fuji's voice through his earpiece, his gaze scrutinizing the look on their charge's face from afar.

She wore the look of a cornered animal, ready to dart away from her predator.

â™ª ... _I need a soul who will be on my side... _â™ª

Gasp.

"Nakamichi-dono, are you all right?" his deep voice asked through the wire mic.

He was answered with shaky, shallow breaths.

â™ª ..._I need a heart I'll never lose... _â™ª

"Body temperature at one hundred two point four degrees Fahrenheit."

Quivering whimper.

â™ª ... _Someone like you... _â™ª

Yoshikawa's voice cut in. "Cease exercise. Nakamichi-dono, you're burning up."

Jackson's brow crumpled at the statistic as he watched her square off to Fuji, her breathing now ragged. He was forced to blink his eyes at the sensation of water droplets splattering onto his forehead.

Rain.

It began to pour without warning and soon the deluge drowned the melody of the music save for the boom of the bass.

"Stand down, Fuji. Exercise is over," commanded the burly guard through the mic, his voice raised.

Fuji looked over his shoulder to where the rest of his colleagues stood, his hand sweeping the raindrops off his face as he nodded in concession.

An opening.

When Fuji returned his gaze before him, all he saw was empty space, and his sparring partner had broken into a run, heading for the gravel path that led to the gates of the laboratory's grounds. Quickly, Fuji followed in pursuit.

The splash of rain against her burning cheeks felt cool and oddly menacing at the same time, her legs carrying her as fast as they could move, her thoughts in disarray. Now that she decided to run, she had yet to decide _where _to run. At the moment, it didn't matter; all judgment and logic escaped her as quickly as she fled.

"Nakamichi-dono, wait!" shouted the voices in her earpiece, only fueling the fear inside her to run even faster, her guards fast at her heels.

* * *

Cheers from the roaring crowd egged Mitsui to continue tending the bar, Tetsuo grinning madly at the mayhem that befell his poor friend. Was he really a sadist, he mused, to allow his friend to be helplessly surrounded by fifty half-drunk, playfully flirtatious transvestites? He took a puff off his cigarette. _Maybe..._ But the occasional smiles that cracked through his crestfallen face only gave the bartender more encouragement to give his reluctant but apt pupil a raw sample of his own world.

"Oh Mitsui-kun!" a manly voice sang. "I need you to fill me, sweetheart!" the cherry-lipped man said, his tone blatantly teasing, the others around the bar in mock disbelief at the lascivious suggestion. Then, with an arched penciled-in eyebrow, the scantily clad man said, "I meant a daiquiri refill! Ah, you girls are soooo naughty! Don't you agree, Mitsui dear?"

Mitsui cringed at the endearment and nodded grimly at the order, all the while Tetsuo guffawing at the far end of the bar. To Mitsui, it was like being the freshest piece of meat at a butcher shop, and Tetsuo was the pimping butcher. As he took the winking man's empty glass who blew him kisses in the smoky air, he tried to ignore his customer's puckering lips while he refilled his, or rather for the time being, _her_ glass. Cold shivers of disgust ran up his spine as he glared helplessly at Tetsuo who gave him no pity and laughed. Yes, this absolutely had to be the one of the oddest, most unexpected and not to mention cruel attempts to lift his spirits from depression. He would occasionally grin at the absurdity of it all; now, not only was he deflated, he also felt like the manly belle of a girly masculine ball. What did Tetsuo call them?

Bloody Muscled Marys.

Being surrounded by skimpily clothed men in tights and high heels who showered him with vociferous adulation for having so much sex appeal just made him feel awkwardly helpless. Some of those guys were bigger and beefier than him! He threw Tetsuo another baneful look before heaving a sigh.

_Someone save me!_

* * *

From the viewing deck, Yoshikawa's fear-stricken eyes strained to make out the running figures across the soaked lawn, the guards yelling through the earpiece asking her to stop. His suspicions were confirmed: what he now witnessed was her sympathetic flight response, wild and uncontrolled. Yoshikawa succumbed to the panic that numbed him throughout as several beeps erupted from the wall of monitors. The lab coordinator swung his gaze at the flashing red numbers on the screens.

"Sir, her temperature has reached critical limit!"

"Blood pressure unstable and on the rise—"

"Brain waves are going berserk!"

"Her heart is going into dysrhythmia, sir!"

The flashing red glow of the numbers shone against Yoshikawa's face, stunned at the information that played right before his bugged out eyes, the guards' voices coalescing with Reiko's shrieking protests. Startled, the DJ halted the music and stomped over to where Yoshikawa stood, bristled. His colleagues' urging didn't reach him, and it took a fierce shake from Yohei to jolt him out of shocked reverie.

"Yoshikawa-san!" bellowed the DJ, his death grip threatening to crush the smaller man's shoulders. "Snap out of it! What the hell's happening?"  
"Temperature at one hundred four point two degrees! Sir, we've got to do something!"

Yoshikawa was instantly seized by a bolt of awareness, wresting from the DJ's grasp and running to the control panel by the viewing window.

"Jackson!" he roared into the headset's mic. "Sedate her!" His eyes tried frantically to see Reiko and the guards through the sheets of rain that pelted against the viewing windows, unaware of their current situation. "Jackson, you hear me?! Sedate her, now!!"

_Easier said than done!_ Jackson shouted commands for the others to corner her in all directions as he hastily turned around and made his way to emergency kit sitting where they had stood before the sparring exercise. As he did this, the rest of his colleagues flanked Reiko in a triangular trap, making it more difficult for her to elude them any further. They tried to calm her with assuring words, telling her that she was not in danger, slowly and warily closing in on all sides to apprehend her.

* * *

"Hey, Mitsui, my woman's gonna tend the bar from here on out. I think you've had enough bartending school. Let's get out of here."

Seething irritation.

"Why couldn't you have pulled me out earlier?"

Laughter.

"No pain, no gain, missy. Let's go."

* * *

"No!" she hissed as Miller reached for her shoulder and attacked him with a swift kick to the ribs. The guard crumpled in pain upon contact, appalling the other two at the unprecedented display of aggression as they carefully kept their distance within five paces. Sakai studied her face carefully, the rain drenching the angry lines of her face, brows drawing her cold grey eyes into a cold glare full of panic and fear. Her lungs laboring for air, she shifted her gaze to and fro between the two guards, her body taut in a defensive stance. Suddenly, her eyes shut and she let out a painful cry, her form lost and contorted when she grabbed her head with both hands and fell to the ground.

"Nakamichi-dono!" both guards shouted and they rushed to her folded body on the saturated lawn, splashes of mud dirtying her cheeks. Neither guard knew what to do and seconds passed by like an eternity as Sakai gently ran a soothing hand behind her back. She was rigidly balled up on her side, her fingers clawing desperately at her skull for relief that did not come.

* * *

Scattered people.

"Feeling any better?"

Silence.

"... Maybe a little..."

Sigh.

"So tell me, Mitsui... what sort of things did you like in this girl?"

Red light.

Quiet reflection.

A hopeless grin.

"I like the fact that she could kick ass."

* * *

"Sakai, Fuji! Hold her still!" yelled Jackson a few yards away, the liquid sedative in his thick hand. His breath caught when he saw Reiko swat away Sakai's arm before kicking Fuji in the head and cutting his chin, the young guard knocked out and fallen on his back. She tried crawling before Sakai grabbed her leg, pulling her across the slick grass and attempting to hold her still. She let out a yelp, and Sakai immediately felt a pang of guilt at the thought that he had inflicted her pain, her face wincing and full of hurt. When Jackson arrived, he pinned his knee against one of her thighs and Sakai copied the move against the other, Jackson unzipping her wet suit enough to expose her shoulder. Just when the needle was about to contact her skin, Reiko's eyes flew open and her arm delivered a punch that landed square on Jackson's chiseled jaw, loosening his grip on the syringe and toppling him off balance.

* * *

Laughter.

"So you like it when a girl can beat your ass..."

Green light.

"No, no, I meant on the court... I mean, someone who's gracefully athletic..."

Pedestrian crossing.

"... And kind... and honest..."

"And pretty?"

"... I guess I lucked out... God, she's beautiful..."

"Hmm... I got the impression that this girl of yours is some reserved beauty from some frufru castle in the sky."

* * *

"Nakamichi-dono, please calm yourself!" begged Sakai as he frantically clung to her left arm, his knee staying her left leg still, though not for long. Reiko had managed to extract herself from his grasp after giving the guard a sharp blow to his thorax, Sakai falling on his back, wondering how and when she acquired such strength. Wincing once more in pain, her hand reached to seize her temple as she struggled to stand erect.

* * *

A vending machine.

"... Yeah, she's precious... and she might as well come from a castle, she's as well-bred and well-protected as a princess."

Coffee.

A smirk.

"It's just like you to pick pretty chicks like that."

* * *

Not far from where the madness took place, Miller unsteadily made his way over to where she stood as he clutched his ribs, his eyes briefly glancing over the older guards' momentary incapacitation, Fuji's form unmoving. He was horrified at her ability to strike three stalwart men down, and he suspected his ribs bruised. When his eyes landed on Reiko, her shoulders shook as she sobbed, her face now full of grief.

"Why... why won't you let us help you?" demanded Miller, his teeth gritting in pain with every word he spoke.

Whether the liquid that streaked her muddy crimson cheeks were tears or raindrops, Miller couldn't tell; the cold glare of her grey eyes had been replaced by a distressed, almost imploring look. And just when he thought that her demeanor had changed, she shut her eyes once more as a shock of pain sliced through her head, and that angry glare returned, making the hairs on the back of his head stand when she took a menacing step forward, the grey fury in her eyes forcing him to step back.

He was in no condition to defend himself.

* * *

A sip.

"So, what do you wanna do about this Reiko?"

Distant stare.

"I'm... I'm just a little confused..."

Chugging.

"Well, what's your first gut instinct?"

"To find her."

Crushed can.

"Let's go then."

* * *

Reiko stilled for a moment, her cold stare steady on Miller's defensive stance, the guard barely able to keep his posture with all the pain he felt in his side. She no longer heard that terrified voice in her head to flee, but instead, she now felt compelled to fight; just as she found no explanation for fleeing before, she could not find a reason for engagement. Miller watched as she placed a hand over her temple again, her face wincing. She blinked, and almost instantly the daggers she threw with her icy eyes were replaced with a conscious, apologetic gaze. Her mouth opened, her trembling voice barely audible to Miller's ears.

"... Je ne peux pas me retenir... désolée..."

* * *

"I don't even know where to start looking."

"I thought you said your friends saw them. So start with what they know and call them."

"The power's out at my apartment, and all my numbers are in my very dead cell phone... I don't know if it's back on by now..."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that. Now move."

* * *

She was about to lunge at him when pairs of strong hands grabbed her fiercely around the shoulders, pulling her back. Reiko shrieked in surprise. Not understanding the fatigue that consumed her, she tried squirming away from their grip in vain, and as she did she felt a sharp prick in her deltoid, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled against the force that held her captive. She was suddenly released, the sting in her arm now a dull ache, and she whirled around to see her distanced assailants.

"Non!..." she trailed off, her vision doubling and her legs staggering to keep her balance, her hand lifting to wipe at her nose. "Il faut... que je le retrouver..."

Collective gasps stifled in the guards' throats as blood trickled from one of her nostrils, their charge oblivious to the crimson liquid dripping as she reached out to them, and in doing so, collapsed into unconsciousness.

"Nakamichi-dono!"

* * *

Arriving at his apartment, Mitsui was glad to see the lights in the hallway were on. Seeing a piece of paper wedged by the door knob, he took it and read the neat words written.

_Mi-chan – _

_Akagi-kun and I stopped by... you haven't answered our phone calls, and we got worried... we'll be back. Please call us soon._

_-- Nanami_

"Mitsui, you gonna open the door or what?" complained Tetsuo, his hands in his pockets.

"My bad," he apologized and unlocked his door. Swinging it open, Tetsuo followed his friend into the apartment to find an elegantly furnished abode, with more than enough room for a small family to live in it. The bartender whistled out loud.

"Mitsui, this is some place you got here!" he declared, marveling at the spaciousness.

"It's not mine, the company provided it for me," he coolly answered as he looked at the answering machine for any new messages.

Zero.

"Make yourself at home," Mitsui offered, going into the bedroom to retrieve his cell phone. Fully charged, he turned his phone on and wasn't surprised to see the mailbox icon flash with the word 'full'. He felt consoled by that and the note that Nanami left him; his friends were going to great lengths to get the message across. _Then it HAS to be true..._ Dialing his voice mailbox, he listened to his messages. Pretty much saying the same thing, he hung up after hearing Sakuragi's tirade, something about kicking his ass... He was astonished that he could even smirk at the thought; he was going to have to get in line behind Tetsuo.

Mitsui emptied his pockets and nearly forgot about the diamond he had brought Tetsuo for his bawling show-and-tell, peeking at the blue rock once more before setting it beside his wallet. He sat at the edge of his bed with his head hung, eyes swinging to the alarm clock before gazing on the wooden floor.

Ten minutes past one.

He hadn't realized it was late, and everyone he wanted to talk to was probably already asleep. He was tired himself. All that heavy labor he did for Tetsuo on top of the alcohol he consumed only drained him physically, though mentally his thoughts still ran amuck. As he pondered on what to do, Tetsuo rummaged through the collection of DVDs in the living room and made a lot of racket, more than likely knocking over the DVD tower.

"I didn't do it!"

Mitsui merely shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

After a few minutes of fumbling around the living room, Tetsuo walked into his friend's bedroom and observed that look of confusion that was becoming more familiar on Mitsui's defeated face.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Look, I know I said I'd help you look for your girl, but man, you look like the living dead."

"I _feel_ like the living dead."

"Exactly, which is why I think it'd probably better if you got some rest and start looking for her tomorrow."

Mitsui closed his eyes and nodded. "I was just thinking the same thing, but I feel bad, Tetsuo. I dragged you out here for nothing."

Tetsuo laughed. "You live like ten blocks away from the bar, you make it sound like I crossed oceans for you." His friend shrugged silently.

"At least let me take you home," Mitsui offered, rising to grab his keys.

"Don't sweat it, man. And didn't anyone ever tell you to always take girls home, not guys?" Tetsuo teased, reminding Mitsui of the horrifying ordeal he experienced earlier at the bar. Mitsui grimaced.

"Tetsuo, the next time you decide to have transvestite night at the bar, _please_ let me know so I'll know when to stay home."

The bartender heaved a sigh. "That's boring. Well, at least now I've broadened your horizons. And it's not an entirely bad idea to have transvestite night right here in your crib, now that I know where you live and all." Tetsuo enjoyed the irate look on Mitsui's face. "Well, I know my way out. By the way, can I borrow a couple of your DVDs?"

Mitsui waved his hand in the air in resignation. "Take as many as you want. I don't ever watch them."

"Really? Thanks!"

In a few more seconds, Tetsuo threw Mitsui a peace sign and walked out of the apartment with a handful of DVDs, leaving Mitsui to himself and his unsettling thoughts.

* * *

By the time she was placed into the immersion chamber, every one in the lab, the guards and even Yohei were exhausted. The panic that had driven them all in a flurry of activity had now subsided, though the worry still hung thick about them like a heavy cloud. Fuji suffered a concussion and was laid down on one of the examining tables, Yohei running onto the field earlier to help carry Fuji, Jackson and Sakai acting as human crutches for Miller until they got inside the lab. They all hustled to care for the guards' wounds and the DJ carted medical supplies back and forth to each examining table.

Now, everything was still with only the whir of the water pump and the sound of water lapping against the walls of the chamber's acrylic surface echoing off the vast walls of the lab.

They had no idea it was going to be like this.

After tending to Reiko and the guards' injuries, Yoshikawa wearily leaned against the wall of monitors and slowly sank to the floor into a crouching position, his head hung low. He had not expected the evening to end like this. Forcing himself to look up, he saw his other colleagues slumped over their desks save for the two manning the control panel for the chamber, their eyes barely open, some already in a dreamless sleep. Swinging his gaze to the opposite wall, he eyed the suspended figure within the chamber, serene and moving with the undulating water, its hue slowly changing from clear to dark pink in a matter of minutes.

Dr. Nakamichi had warned him of the possibility of side effects, but he had no idea that she would snap under nervous pressure and he was totally unprepared for it all. He knew that she was dangerously close to constant massive sympathetic discharge, and he thought she could hold on until they could find the one person who could possibly calm her down. How sad he assumed wrongly. He couldn't contain the tension that strung him up when he and the others lowered Reiko into a shallow tank of ice water to lower her temperature, the blood from her nose diffusing and coloring the icy waters red. Other than the erratic brain waves she exhibited, her brain scans showed no signs of physical damage though her hypothalamus was still a little enlarged, and the cause of her nosebleed baffled Yoshikawa and the others. She drifted in and out of consciousness, her grey eyes blinking skeptically at the many hands that hovered over her, flinching when they drew blood from her arm. When they placed the oxygen mask over her face and lowered her into the immersion chamber, Yoshikawa wasn't completely relieved for he now faced a mountain of questions that he would have to answer before further testing could continue. He closed his eyes as he took his glasses off, sweeping a hand over his tired visage. He predicted that she would be very, very sore from the evening's adrenaline-fueled exercise.

He had never been so scared before in his life.

"Yoshikawa-san, saturation point has been reached... we have to do a water change," stated his very tired colleague.

The lab coordinator shook his head at his words. "No, we'd better give it a rest... it's nearly two in the morning and we're no good to her dead on our feet. The water's color is close to rust, and that tells us her metabolism had elevated to a catastrophic rate.... her body needs a break from this." He looked at his watch again. "We all do."

* * *

After waiting an hour for sleep that refused him, Mitsui got tired of staring at the ceiling of his bedroom and sat up in his bed. He refused to look at the clock anymore, he practically watched the minutes tick away till it hit the hour. Rising, he opened his clothes drawer and took a fresh shirt, shrugged out of the one he was in and wore it, grabbing his keys and wallet after putting his pants on and as he did, he stared at the velvet box that contained the blue diamond he intended as a keepsake to remind him of how beautiful life was with her. His jaw clenching, Mitsui took the ring out of the box and searched for the necklace she had given him years ago. Finding it, he strung the ring through the necklace and wore it underneath his shirt. Right now, at this quiet hour of the night, he was going to see if what everyone has been telling him was true. He no longer wanted to wait for things to happen to him. He was going to make things happen _for_ him. He took his cell phone and fled out the door.

Getting in his car, he sped out of the parking lot, weaving through lanes of sparse traffic like a street racer on road rage.

* * *

"You have reached the Genius. The Genius is either in practice or training his highly evolved brain. Please leave the Genius a message and he will get back to you as soon as he can. Mitsui, if this is you, I'm going to beat your ass. Have a great day!"

Beep.

"Hanamichi, it's Yohei. Listen... things didn't go so well at the lab. Reiko-san snapped, and all sorts of scary shit happened... before we realized it, she knocked all her guards off their feet. I'm so fuckin' tired... but that's not important. I called to tell you that we really need to double our efforts in finding Mitsui, because if we don't... well, we just really need to get on the ball... give me a call when you hear this, don't worry about waking me up. Later."

Yohei hung up as he pulled into the driveway of his house. He couldn't voice the thought of Mitsui's girlfriend succumbing to pressures he didn't understand, and he refused to think that thought would lead him to assume. He considered sleeping in the van, he was so tired, but he knew his mother would be in conniptions and question him to no end. He dragged his sagging form into the house as quietly as possible, up the stairs and into his bedroom where he crashed on his bed and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Arriving at the mansion, the guards got out of the cars, Miller having to use Fuji as a crutch and Jackson carrying Reiko's limp body towards the house. Sakai opened and held the door for the rest to file in, and Jackson went straight up to her bedroom where he laid her gently on the bed, careful not to disturb her from slumber. The shirt she wore was inside out, reminding Jackson of the worried rush the doctors went through in dressing her. Placing a pillow under her head, he pulled the covers over her, tucking the ends under the mattress, more as safety insurance than a brotherly gesture, not that such a weak restraint would confine her in bed should she use the same strength to get out like she did in delivering breath-knocking blows. When he turned around, he found the rest of his colleagues just outside of her door, Sakai leaning against the banister, the younger guards standing and looking silently at the floor. They looked worn to the bone. Jackson took a deep breath and broke the silence, his voice just above a whisper.

"Well... tonight's events were something we were completely unprepared for," he said, his fingers rubbing his forehead. "Miller, you okay?"

Miller nodded. "I'll be all right... at least my ribs aren't broken, even though they hurt like hell."

"God, I never thought she was that strong," commented Fuji, his eyes lost in recollection. "How did that happen?"

Sakai shook his head. "Yoshikawa said that she was so high on adrenaline that when she tried to defend herself, she put every ounce of energy into every kick and punch she gave us." He paused for a second. "She never really was a weakling to begin with."

"Yeah, but I didn't expect that from someone who lost a good amount of weight." Fuji unconsciously rubbed at the bandaged cut on his chin.

"Something went wrong inside her and she snapped," Jackson speculated, his hands diving into his pockets. "But... there was something odd about her, like she was struggling not to behave the way she did."

Miller's brows rose at Jackson's statement. "I agree. Right before you sedated her, she apologized to me for not being able to control herself."

"She did?"

"In French."

"That's strange," thought Sakai out loud.

Interested in Miller's comments, Jackson nodded at the younger guard. "What did she say before she collapsed?"  
Taking a second to think back to that moment, Miller replied. "She said, 'No, I must find him'."

A hush fell upon them as they digested Miller's translation, the apparent urgency of locating Mitsui now becoming of paramount importance. Jackson blinked the weariness from his eyes before looking at his colleagues.

"Gentlemen, it's three in the morning. If we're to do anything for her, or us for that matter, we had better get some rest. Miller, you're going to need it the most. If we can get at least five hours in, we should be able to cover a lot of ground tomorrow. Mitsui's out there and we're going to find him, but in the meantime, we need sleep."

They all nodded their agreement.

"I don't know how she'll be in the morning, and if she does a repeat of this past night's episode, I think one of us needs to stay here and watch her in case something happens."

"I'll stay," volunteered Fuji. "I'll let the dog out right now."

"Good. We'll get details ironed out tomorrow," Jackson added, trying to blink away his fatigue.

* * *

Sitting still in the driver's seat, Mitsui drummed his fingers softly against the steering wheel. It was still quite early when he pulled into his parents' driveway, and for some reason he didn't want to get out of the car, the engine still running. It had been some time now since he arrived; he remained still.

Any minute now, his father would be coming out of the house for his morning jog. His mother would be making breakfast and soon she'll be waking Ami up. His was a family that fell in line with a routine, and like all other families that lived in Kanagawa, every day ran in a timely rhythm. All of a sudden, he felt bad for coming home, for he knew his arrival would only disrupt that rhythm, and he was old enough to take care of his own problems.

Shifting in reverse, he rolled out of the driveway, made a u-turn and headed for the university district.

Taking the broomstick, an arthritic hand held the handle of the broom and thrust it up against the tarp of the awning, the rainwater that pooled onto it splattered down onto the pavement. Grunting his satisfaction, the old baker began to sweep the sidewalk, brushing the dead leaves of fall into the dust pan. Hearing a car door close, the old man lifted his gaze from the pavement and saw one of his old customers walking towards him.

"Well, well! It's good to see you again, young man!" exclaimed the baker, the broomstick left in one hand and the other meeting Mitsui's grip. "Careful now, these old bones crack easy, you know!"

"Good morning, Jii-chan," greeted Mitsui, oddly relieved in the older man's presence. He was led inside the bakery, and soon they the two ensued in conversation over some kolaches and Sunday Mornings.

"I'm not sure if you already know, but your friend Akagi-kun and his girlfriend had stopped by asking if I had seen you lately. They look like they've been searching for you for a while now. You haven't been hiding from them, have you?" teased the old man before taking a sip from his mug.

Mitsui shook his head. "I wanted to call them back, but my cell phone was dead, and by the time the power came back on at my place, it was too late to call. Wait a minute, did you just say Akagi has a girlfriend?"  
"Yes, she's the one who came in here with you and Akagi-kun and Reiko-chan for one of your study sessions back then."

Mitsui's eyes widened. "Nanami-chan?"

"Yes, that's her name. Sheesh, I can't remember names anymore! I'm really getting old..."

"Why, that sly gorilla..."

The old man inclined his head. "What was that?"

"Oh, nothing." Mitsui quickly bit into another quickly. Moments of comfortable silence passed by before the old man spoke again.

"Mitsui-kun, how are you now? The last time I saw you, you really worried me..."

He didn't know how to explain himself. "... I guess I'm a little better now... The last time you saw me, I was losing my mind."

The baker wanted to smile at him but chose to nod instead. "And what about now?"

"There are a few things I need to find out."  
A smile.

"Maybe Akagi-kun might know?"

"I don't know, Jii-chan. I don't know a lot of things lately..."

"Maybe they're planning some sort of reunion."

_How aptly spoken..._

"I hope that's the case."

A few other customers streamed into the bakery, prompting the old man to get up and behind the counter, filling the orders and packing the pastries in sacs and boxes. When they left, he returned to the table where Mitsui who ate the last morsel on his plate.

"Did you ever find Fuji-san?" the old man asked, swirling the contents of his mug. Drinking from his own, Mitsui finished the rest of his Sunday Morning.

"I've come to seek him out." _And the one they've so fiercely guarded. _Mitsui flashed him a smile of realization that reassured him of his purpose. He was not going to run away from it all anymore. Rock bottom was so mentally tiring.

"Good! And what should I tell your friends when they ask for you again?"

Another grin.

"Please tell them that I've come to take my life back."

Not really understanding what he meant, the old man just nodded and watched Mitsui wave goodbye to him and walk out the door.

When he stood to take the mugs and plate to the sink, it began to rain heavily outside. Glancing out the shop windows, the old man rolled his eyes and sighed. "Again?" he asked, not really caring if someone in the heavens heard him. He was going to have to drain the water from the awnings again.

* * *

She woke up with a pounding ache in her head, her hand reaching for her temple. She knew that trying to rub it won't give her any relief, and she tried to orient herself without wincing so hard. Realizing that she was back in the house, she saw Fuji asleep in a chair by her bedroom door, his arms closed and head leaned back against the wall. By the feet of his chair lay her corgi, now awake and looking wide-eyed at her. Holding a finger to her lips, Reiko prayed that her dog would understand her as she crept out of bed and into the bathroom, her jaw clenching in pain at every step of the way. She couldn't remember what happened last night, the assumption that she passed out in exhaustion again offered an explanation to the severe soreness of her muscles.

The moment she saw her reflection on the mirror, she gaped at the sight. The woman looking back at her was a pale, weary shell of a human. She was wearing a shirt that was backwards and inside-out, and she frowned at not being able to remember how that happened. Taking a washcloth, she let the water from the faucet trickle silently, wetting the cloth and washing her face, the simple motions making her grit her teeth in pain. It hurt to make the slightest move. When she rinsed the washcloth off, she noticed a tinge of red in the water and realized that it was blood. Looking at the mirror closely, she found traces of dried blood just at the opening of one nostril and she quickly wiped it clean.

The sound of rain pelting against the skylight of her room made her swing her gaze at Fuji who was now snoring and dead to the world, her dog silently approaching her with its stubby tail wagging at her. She strained to pick it up, not understanding why the dog weighed so much in her arms. Embracing the animal, she instructed her pet to keep quiet before deciding to take a hot shower. Undressing, she turned on the water and as soon as the warm liquid hit her face, a rush of recollection flooded her mind in an instant: the rain, voices, the shouting...

Reiko closed her eyes as she cleaned herself, panic slowly rising within her. What happened last night? It couldn't have all been a dream, otherwise it wouldn't hurt so much to wash the skin between her shoulder blades.

Peeking to see if the guard was still asleep, she smiled in relief when she heard him snore. Drying herself off, she walked quietly to the closet, her dog trailing closely behind. Donning a pair of yoga pants and a shirt that belonged to her sister, she took a throw blanket and gently placed it over Fuji's sleeping form, careful not to rouse him. The guard soon shrank into the warmth of the blanket, and with a satisfied smile she crept past him and went downstairs to the kitchen. She was incredibly famished, and as she prepared herself a sandwich, she found it hard to believe that her hunger reached a point where she could no longer ignore it like she had done before. Didn't she eat enough last night? She didn't bother answering her question as she devoured her sandwich, wondering instead why Fuji was sent to guard her door.

When she had finished eating, she let the dog out the back door, carrying a towel with her and waiting for the animal to do his business on the wet lawn. At first the dog was hesitant, but after several coaxes from its master it bounded across the lawn, Reiko quietly laughing at her pet bristling and shaking the water off its fur coat. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, the soaked steps leading to the servants' quarters, the raindrops rolling off the waxy leaves of the plants that lined the yard, and rainwater gushing from the garage's rain gutter and splattering onto the driveway's concrete. A glint of red caught the corner of her eye and she looked to see the faint gleam of the garage light bouncing off a shiny metal surface, peeking through the open side door of the garage. Curiosity piqued, she walked towards the garage.

The door usually remained closed after the cars were parked, and she found it odd that the guards forgot to close it. Upon entering the garage, she found herself eyeing the succession of red motorcycles parked in tandem, their rear wheels suspended mid-air by rear stands. Matching motorcycle suits and helmets lay on top of the workbench against the wall, and several keys lay in a pile by the pairs of gloves still in plastic bags. She allowed her hand to trace one of the vehicles' steel trim lines, halting at the leather seat and wondering what it was about sport bikes that enthralled Miller. Retracting her hand, she extinguished the wish to study her guard's birthday present and moved to the door when she was stopped by a painful sensation ripping through her head, like something was tearing her slowly in two. Her teeth clenched mechanically to try and brace herself from the pain, and as she staggered to lean against the door frame, she was once again overcome by the urge to take flight and run.

_Escape_...

"No!" she protested, gripping the sides of her head. She knew this wasn't normal, shutting her eyes and praying for the pain to recede. As she struggled to stand, the same rush of memories flashed in her mind's eye once more, and this time, the voices and the shouting were so real, she began to cry.

Blink.

The look of pain on Miller's face when she kicked him in the rib cage.

Blink.

Fuji's body falling backwards in the rain.

Gasp.

Jackson and Sakai pinning her to the ground, trying to subdue her.

_Run away!_

She whimpered and shook her head, refusing to remember or listen anymore to what her mind was telling her, nervous and scared of this moment of lunacy. She didn't notice she was crumpled onto her side until something warm grazed her cheek, her faithful dog standing next to her cowering form.

"Boy, I need help," her voice quivered, the wet dog merely tilting its head and whimpering at her words, remaining where it stood.

Moments passed and the worst of the headache passed, smaller throbs of pain continuing to wrinkle her brow. Struggling to sit up, she allowed herself a few moments to recover from this episode, feeling lightheaded and reckless. Outside, the pitter patter of rain did not stop, and the only sound that came close to obscuring the rain was the bellowing voice in her head telling her to leave.

* * *

Setting the wipers at the fastest setting possible, Mitsui struggled to see past the rain that pounded against the windshield. He was headed towards the summer house where she used to live, not really caring if the security guards at the exclusive subdivision's entrance allowed him access or not. He could barely see the security guard shed from where he parked, the rain fell so hard. He didn't really know where to start looking for her, and he didn't want to return his friends' phone calls at this early hour. Sakuragi was probably still drooling on his pillow, Miyagi more than likely doing the same, and Akagi... _His team's probably on the road somewhere._ Mitsui finally pulled over to the side and parked the car, choosing to wait until the downpour subsided.

Several minutes or so passed and the rain let up somewhat, the torrents slowed to just above a sprinkle. Mitsui turned off his hazard lights and slowed his wipers down, shifting into drive when a motorcycle drove up to the gate, its rider's suit and steel finish the same color match. The sleek red hue immediately caught his eye, and Mitsui was instantly impressed with the vehicle. It was nothing like Tetsuo's motorcycle, and he imagined it could reach speeds that would transport one in the blink of an eye. As the gate opened, he noted that the rider constantly looked over his shoulder, as if being followed.

_Man, he needs to put on a little more meat to fit in that suit._

When the gate finally gave way, Mitsui was surprised to see the motorcycle lurch clumsily forward, the rider shifting awkwardly to and fro, throwing another glance over his shoulder before finally reaching a more graceful acceleration. Mitsui slowly drove forward, his eye still on the rider and his motorcycle before driving to the entrance gate.

When he was politely told that no residents expected guests at this early morning and refused access, he simply shrugged and turned around, opting to kill time and drive around the block. At least they were nice about it, and they sounded like they would cave in should he come back later on.

Down the street he drove, cautiously evading the puddles of water that collected by the lower parts of the gutters. Mitsui liked the fact that no one else was on the road, an unusual occurrence for a weekday. Then again, people in these swanky parts didn't really need to work that early. _Their money works for them._ He was about to lean his elbow against the door when he slammed on the breaks, tires screeching to a skidding halt.

About thirty feet from his halted car lay the same red motorcycle on its side, its rear wheel still spinning in motion and the rider some distance away from the crashed vehicle on the pavement, unmoving.

"Good God!"

Mitsui threw his car in park, punched the hazard lights button and jumped out of the car, hurrying towards the fallen rider.

"Hey, are you all right?" he called out as he cautiously shook the prone rider's arm, earning him a stifled moan. "Can you get up?"

Groaning, the driver turned on his back and pawed gingerly at the junction of his neck and shoulder with a gloved hand, trying to propel himself to sit straight up by digging his heels against the concrete but to no avail. It looked like he was trying to grab at the pain in his collar bone that was too great for him to stand.

"No, don't move. Just stay still, okay? I'm going to get help," he assured breathlessly, reaching in his pocket for his cell phone and eyes widening when he discovered it wasn't there. Mitsui muttered a curse. He had left the phone in the car.

The rider moaned once more, making Mitsui stand to his feet. "Stay here, let me get the phone real quick," he said and turned on his heel toward the passenger door, the rain pouring heavily once more making him groan inwardly at his circumstances.

Straining to sit up, the rider wiped the silver tinted visor of the helmet, the continuous patter of rain making it difficult to see anything. As Mitsui dialed for emergency services, he threw his glance back at the injured driver struggling to take his helmet off.

"One one zero, what is your emergency?" a voice on the other line said.

"Yeah, a motorcycle just wiped out on the street and the driver is hurt," Mitsui reported as he shut the passenger door. After a short pause, the operator spoke once more.

"Sir, where did the accident occur?"

Mitsui tried to remember the street they were on. "I think this is Nagazumi... yes, Nagazumi, just by that exclusive subdivision where a lot of rich people live."

"I know exactly where that is," the operator affirmed. "Is the driver of the motorcycle conscious?"

Mitsui returned his gaze back at the leather clad rider, his gloved hand successfully pushing the helmet off, spilling long silken tresses of hair over the rider's face, Mitsui's eyes widening in shock.

"The driver's a woman..." he voiced his surprise into the phone, momentarily forgetting the operator's question as his eyes swept over the rider's sitting position, the thick locks of hair over her bowed head now wet with the relentless splatter of rain, the helmet resting on the rider's lap. Strands of soaked hair clung to the leather collar that covered her neck, her attention seized by the pain along her neckline, both shoulders hunched over. He now understood why the riding suit didn't fit; it probably wasn't even hers. So why did she risk riding in the rain? Mitsui walked closer to the rider.

"Sir, can – hear me? Is – driver of – conscious?"

Mitsui could only hear static after he gave the operator an affirmative, his eyes furrowed in curiosity as he knelt by the rider's side, her head turned away from him. He wished that somebody would drive up and lend him a hand, but he knew he couldn't rely on anybody else but himself. The phone was as good as useless, he couldn't hear anything but static through it, and the rain was unyielding. He hung up and drew his attention to the injured.

"Um... Miss?" he called out, hand wiping his face. "Are you okay?" Seeing her head jerk slightly at his inquiry, Mitsui's hand lightly touched her shoulder and at this, she froze, startling Mitsui to retract his hand. He stilled and apologized ruefully, waiting for her to do or say something when she slowly turned her head towards him, her entire face obscured by her hair. Tempted to part the drenched locks to the sides of her face, he wondered if she could see past the hairy obstruction and his musing was answered when the gloved hand that clung protectively to her collar slowly reached out to touch his cheek, the gesture taking him aback.

"Miss?" he addressed, his eyes blinking away the raindrops and their depths full of inquiry. Giving into his previous impulse, he gently raked over the soaked strands and hooked it behind her ear with meticulous tenderness, his breath catching in recognition of the rider's identity, eyes wide as saucers and transfixed to the ethereal depths of grey orbs.

"Reiko!!"

Her damp porcelain features melted into a warm smile as she lowered her hand onto her lap, ashen eyes briefly closing and opening to uncover a bluer shade of grey in her gaze.  
Time stood still.

"I ... finally ... found you ..."

An eternity.

"......"

A stream of blood snaked from her nostrils, horrifying Mitsui as he watched her fall into a swoon, her upper torso falling forward and his arms reflexively sustaining her.

"No!" he cried, his arms cradling and lifting her off the ground. He shook her a little. "Reiko, wake up!" Getting no response, he carried her to the car, struggled to open the front passenger door and deposited her carefully into the seat, securing her with the seatbelt before jumping in the driver's seat. His mind racing, he knew he had to get her to the hospital. Speeding into a J-turn, Mitsui headed back to the direction from where he came, his right hand protectively pressing and staying Reiko in her seat. Hitting the gas, he sped through the street, wondering why fate was so cruel as to take away the only woman he ever wanted to love, only to be reunited with her under torrents of rain, her limp and injured body barely having any life, the angel he had fruitlessly sought in his dreams now fallen and wilted beside him.

* * *

Taking his empty mug to the break room, Kiminobu Kogure poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and splashed some milk and sugar into the mug. He returned to the receiving bay of the emergency room where two nurses checked on patient files and prescriptions. Early mornings have been dead for the ER lately, and Kogure was thankful for this peace and quiet. Today was supposed to be his day-off, but leave it to him to be suckered into filling a shift for a resident. _A very beautiful resident_. Kogure sighed. Why did she have to use the pleading puppy eye look on him? Before he knew it, he was wrapped around her little finger. Now if only she knew how he really felt about her...

"Incoming!" yelled one of the nurses and Kogure was roused out of his rumination. Approaching the door, Kogure blinked at the soaking figure carrying an unconscious person in his arms.

"Mitsui?!"

Relief washed over Mitsui's face. "Kogure! She's been in a motorcycle accident, you've gotta help!"

The nurses had a gurney ready for them and both men placed the leather clad patient onto it, Kogure reaching for his pen light to inspect her eyes. The young doctor was relieved to get pupillary reaction. As they wheeled her into a room, the nurses scurried to remove the riding suit off the patient's body, Mitsui's face wearing a mask of unspeakable worry.

"How long ago did this happen?" asked Kogure, now listening to her heart.

"I—I'm not sure, maybe ten minutes ago. I found her on the street," replied his friend, his voice cracking in anxiety. "Kogure, is she going to be okay?"

After feeling for her pulse, Kogure took the earpieces of his stethoscope from his ears. "Was she wearing a helmet?"

"Yes," replied Mitsui, wiping the moisture off his face in exasperation.

"This blood from her nose, was she bleeding when you found her?"

Mitsui shook his head. "No." As the nurses took her blood pressure and examined her body, Mitsui clung desperately to Kogure's sleeve. "Kogure, please tell me she's going to be all right."

As much as he wanted to tell him so, Kogure couldn't. "We can't be sure of a prognosis until we get some tests done." He addressed the nurses. "Please take the patient to radiology. I need a CT scan of her head, inform the radiologist of the epistaxis. Please check for any swelling that we might have missed, and x-ray those parts. Do a blood chemistry analysis as well."

"Yes, sensei."

Mitsui moved to follow the nurses as they wheeled her motionless form away when Kogure stayed his shoulder.

"Mitsui, she's just going to get diagnostic imaging done, it shouldn't take that long. Stay put and try not to worry."

His friend was helplessly restless. "I can't help it..." he trailed off, his voice losing volume. "Countless nights I've prayed to God for her to come back to me, just for a chance to see her again, and now that I've found her, she... she might—" Mitsui couldn't continue the thought of losing her yet again, the very idea so unspeakable and unbearable that it made him sick to his stomach. Kogure was shocked to see tears falling down his friend's frightened countenance.

"Hey... it's too early to jump to conclusions, Mitsui," he consoled, placing a placating pat against Mitsui's back. The last time he saw Mitsui was at the neighborhood playground, and he was distraught then; now, in the harrowing silence of the ER's main hallway, Mitsui had reached a breaking point. Kogure had heard from Akagi that Mitsui was all but shattered when someone he knew died a few years back, someone he loved so dearly that he stopped playing basketball in his grief. The professional basketball community mourned the loss of one of the most promising rookies to this personal tragedy, the scouts and fans' curiosity of his predicted success extinguished before it was even stoked. So who could be this woman he was weeping over now?

"Who is she, Mitsui?" he asked, peering into his friend's teary eyes.

It took a moment for Mitsui to choke back his tears and recollect himself.

"Reiko."

Kogure couldn't believe his ears. Wasn't she the one he wept for all these years, the one who died? Frozen and confused at the revelation, he watched as his friend fall to his knees and crumple over in defeat, a sight most wretched to the young doctor's eyes as Mitsui openly cried. Kogure crouched beside his friend, draping a comforting arm over his shoulders as he listened to his friend weep and sob through a flood of emotions that consumed his shaking form. At this point of uncertainty, Kogure could do nothing as a doctor. All he could be was a friend.

* * *

Fuji woke up to the sound of faint barking, his eyes barely blinking at the patter of rain against the room's skylight. Deeming he was imagining things, he closed his eyes and turned his head aside, shrinking into the warmth of the blanket over him.

_Blanket?!_

Fuji jumped out of his seat, his pulse furiously racing at the sight of the empty bed in the room, and soon he flew down the stairs in a fit of frenzy. He got to the nearest intercom downstairs and yelled what they all tried to prevent.

"Guys, wake up! Nakamichi-dono is gone!"

Moving through the kitchen, Fuji found a plate of breadcrumbs and a glass half-filled with water. _Fuck!_ He was so out cold that he didn't even hear her go downstairs. Opening the back door, he saw Jackson and Sakai running through the rain towards the house, with Miller straggling behind. Before Fuji could utter an apology, all their heads turned to the front gate at the whimpering yaps of the dog, the animal standing on its hind legs and pawing at the gate. Seeing the guards, the dog ran toward them and barked.

"She took off," Jackson muttered under his breath as he watched the corgi run to the gate and bark once more.

"Jackson, one of the bikes is missing, along with one of everything she gave us on Miller's birthday," reported Sakai, the towel intended to dry the dog that morning now in his clutch.

"Holy shit, this is all my fault... I'm so sorry, guys," apologized Fuji, his head slowly shaking in disbelief.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," said Jackson, his eyes set hard on the ground as the rain soaked all of them once again. "We were all tired... even if you didn't hear her go past you, we should've at least heard the engine and dog barking sooner." Jackson knew this was no time for regrets. He quickly recollected himself. "All right. Miller, stay here and man the computers, check the police stations and call all her friends. We have to look for two people now."

The younger guard nodded at his superior.

"There's a car for each of us here, let's split up into three. Sakai, cover all points east. Fuji, take the neighborhood and the shopping district. We'll ask the security guards at the entrance if they saw her, change venues from there if you have to. I'll cover the university district." Jackson quickly glanced at his watch. "Take the two-way radios with you, leave one for Miller. We have to hurry."

The three scurried to the garage, taking the keys stowed away in a hanging lock box to the cars. Before opening the passenger door to Hideki's sports car, Jackson called out to Miller once more.

"And Miller, I need you to scan the hospitals in the area."

His colleagues' faces drained of color at the possibility of her being injured, or worse yet, mortally wounded. Time was of the essence, and as they keyed the cars to life, Miller took the yelping dog in his arms and opened the gate. One by one the cars rolled out, peeling out as soon as they hit the street.

* * *

Kogure had succeeded in getting Mitsui to calm down, persuading him to stay in his office while he retrieved the results from the radiologist. Standing before lit viewboxes in the viewing room, he frowned at the CT and MRI images. She had a hairline fracture in her left clavicle, but that wasn't what he was concerned about. Sagittal and coronal views showed considerable enlargement in the hypothalamic region of her brain. No aberrations were reported with the patient's intrathecal pressure, and cerebrospinal fluid was not present in her nosebleed. That stumped the young doctor even further; he didn't know why she bled from her nose. Trauma was the only thing he could account for, and without background history from the patient, he could only think of congenital causes.

One of the nurses knocked on the door and brought the blood chemistry results, a look of disbelief blanketing her face.

"When you figure this out, please explain it to me, because I don't even see how she's even alive."

With that comment, the nurse stepped out of the room, leaving Kogure to look over the results. It didn't take him long for his eyes to widen in amazement, now understanding the bewilderment in the nurse's face; ionic values were out the roof, and highlighted below the values were the words '_Never came across blood type like this!_'. It was like something grafted out of a science fiction novel, like the blood that coursed through her veins was out of this world. The doctor sighed. Now _that_ was highly unlikely, although in science, everything is possible... even the prospect of her blood cells being engineered...

Kogure muttered a curse. How can he explain this to Mitsui if he can't even explain it to himself?

* * *

All three cars stopped at the site of a crashed motorcycle and helmet tossed aside under the pouring rain. The guards' fears ran wild as they inspected the crash site. Not far from where the motorcycle lay was a sewer cap barely visible underneath a small pool of rainwater, and Jackson's intuition told him that this was what caused her to wipe out and skid across the wet pavement. That, and the fact that she's never ridden or driven a motorcycle before in her life, and it was even a wonder to all three guards how she could get a two-wheeled machine to move that was hundreds of pounds beyond her able strength. Their gazes met under the relentless patter of rain.

"Someone must've come to her aid," assumed Sakai, wiping the rain off his off.

"God, I hope so," Jackson agreed.

A scratchy voice came through their two-way radios.

"Guys, I found her. Seirin hospital, where Dr. Takani treated her after the volleyball playoffs. She was admitted two hours ago, and get this, Mitsui-san was the one who brought her there."

A welcome wave of surprise washed them over as Jackson gladly replied.

"We're on our way."

* * *

Sleeping beauty.

Stillness.

Held breath.

"Please tell me you have good news."

A sigh.

"I have news, but it may not be good."  
_Oh God..._

"There's a hairline fracture in her left clavicle, but that injury is simple enough and should heal on its own. That brace and sling should suffice."

Expectant look.

"Then there's the issue of her brain scans..."

"What's wrong?"

A pause.

"Mitsui, I'm no neurologist, and my experience pales in comparison to a lot of doctors around here. But... her hypothalamus is swollen—"

"Her what?"

"It's a part of the brain that controls some of the hormones released in the body. It could be some kind of tumor, but we won't know unless we do a biopsy—"

"Will she live?"

_Please tell me she'll live_...

"Yes, but for how long, I don't know... I have nothing to go on as far as personal history is concerned. It doesn't appear to be invasive at all, which is a good thing, but we can't be too sure..."

Glasses removed.

"Mitsui, I find her blood values disturbing... they're beyond human, which I know is illogical. I know that sounds harsh... but... can you tell me anything... anything at all that might explain this? Because I'm clueless. The nurses don't even know _how _she's alive with such ionic imbalance."

_Ions..._

"... Years ago before she di-- ... before she disappeared, I've seen her go through some water immersion process... she was submerged into this big tank of water with an electric current running through it..."

"What?"

"... And the water turned murky after the whole thing."

Pensive silence.

"Has she ever been admitted here?"

"... I—I think so... yes, I'm sure. It was right after volleyball playoffs... Takani-sensei tended to her."

"That's weird... we don't have any record of that in her folder."

"..."

The door to the quiet room suddenly burst open, startling both Kogure and Mitsui to see three men dripping rainwater onto the cold hospital floor. The intense looks on their faces were extinguished when they found their charge lying safe and sound on the hospital bed, sighs of relief escaping their throats.

"Mitsui-san," addressed the burliest of the men, his eyes locking with Mitsui's gaping gaze.

"Jackson-san..."

The guard extended his hand out to Mitsui who mechanically engaged it with a handshake, words escaping both as they performed this gesture of formality. The hoax of their death finally manifested in Jackson's grip as Mitsui met his force; they were alive, she was real, and he wasn't dreaming.

Fuji strode to the bedside and shook his head in disbelief, his eyes straying to the sling around her. "Naughty girl... why did you have to be the prodigal child?"

Sakai was the first to give Mitsui a humble bow. "You don't know how relieved and unbelievably lucky we are to have you coming to Nakamichi-dono's aid. We are indebted, Mitsui-san."

The other guards mimicked Sakai's action, startling Kogure at the sudden turn of events. Standing erect once more, Jackson looked Mitsui straight in the eye.

"Mitsui-san, we know we have a lot to explain, and a lot more to atone for. But right now, we need to take her back. We've been looking for you for the past few days... your presence is critically needed for her recovery."

Fuji moved to carry Reiko's limp figure off the bed, with Sakai covering as much of her body as possible with the blanket. Kogure defensively stood by the door.

"Wait, where are you taking her?" he demanded.

Finally finding the nerve to his tongue, Mitsui spoke. "It's okay, Kogure. These are her bodyguards."

"Will you come with us, Mitsui-san?" asked Jackson.

_Was it really necessary to even ask that question?_

"Yes." Turning to Kogure, he cast a pleading look. "Please, Kogure, it really is all right. They've known her all her life, they know what they're doing."

Acquiescence.

"Okay... but I want to be informed of her progress."

Jackson assented.

"You got it."

Their charge in Fuji's arms and Mitsui now found, Jackson led the guards out of the room and thanked the young doctor, briefly leaving him a phone number where he can be contacted before leaving the building. As Kogure watched them off through the sliding glass doors and into the pouring rain, he couldn't help but wonder what Mitsui was going through.

* * *

Speeding through torrents of rain and traffic, Fuji's concentration behind the wheel was silent and intense. Mitsui didn't say a word; Jackson already promised him all the answers to his questions, and they could wait after she was delivered from her catatonic state. In the backseat of the car he cradled Reiko still as Fuji weaved through lanes of cars like a fugitive on the run, the sound of rain drumming against the moving vehicle and boom of Mitsui's nervous heart overwhelming his ears as he looked down at the sleeping features of his long-lost beloved. His eyes soaked in every feature, every line, every curve of her face, the soft porcelain skin that he longed to kiss over and over, the long locks of hair hanging from her dozing head. She was too light in his arms, and her cheeks were slightly sunken in. What was happening to her? It was like going through the nightmare of losing her all over again, but this time, she was the real thing, and the memory of those haunting dreams only forced tears from his eyes. In the past, every dream ended abruptly, with no end or closure, leaving him yearning for more, and he could feel his arms tightening around her.

"Please, Reiko... please wake up," he fervently whispered into her ear as she lay nestled against his chest.

Fuji's eyes briefly strayed to the rear view mirror, catching the tender and pleading scene. He blinked and returned his eyes on the road, silently thanking God that they made it through the laboratory's gates safely.

"We're here, Mitsui-san," the driver said as he slowed the car to a stop. Throwing the car in park, Fuji got out and rounded the car to where Mitsui sat, opening the door for Mitsui to carry her out.

The minutes that followed flew by and Mitsui was left to watch men and women in white lab coats scurry about, leaving and returning to the room, Reiko's body lying still on one of the examining tables and a shorter man giving orders to people behind several computers. The guards joined Mitsui at the back of the lab where they were forced to be mere spectators of the whole process, for this was something completely out of their expertise. It was all up to Yoshikawa and his team now.

When Reiko was lowered into the immersion chamber, Sakai took notice to Mitsui's shivering form and walked to the metal locker by the wall. Taking out a jacket, he offered it Mitsui along with a small key.

"Here, Mitsui-san. It would be best to get out of that damp shirt before you completely freeze. This is the key to my locker in the men's room, locker eight. There should be a clean shirt there for you."

After a long moment, Mitsui took the jacket and the key, thanking the older guard as he willed himself to tear his gaze away from the submerged woman in the pinkish waters of the tank. When he had gone to the locker room, the three guards were left to behold the murky transformation.

"I need a drink," said Jackson, swiping a tired hand over his chiseled face.

"I'll buy you one when all of this is over," offered Sakai, trying to lighten the mood.

"Now I know what clothes feel like in the heavy wash cycle," Fuji mumbled as he leaned against the wall and sagged into a squatting position. "Will you buy me a drink, too?"

Sakai smiled. "I'll buy you a whole bottle."

Fuji looked up at his colleague and grinned in satisfaction. "How generous of you." Pausing, he added, "Sakai, you'd make a really good sugar daddy."

Jackson suddenly laughed at this, making the other two laugh as well, the heads of the lab coats swinging their way in question. Things had been so tense lately, and it was always Fuji who found a way to loosen their strings. Wiping the corner of his eye, Jackson let out a sigh.

"Gentlemen, we're only half-way out of the woods, and I'm afraid Nakamichi-dono will have to carry us through the other half. We should use this downtime to ready the house for her... and her long-awaited companion."

Sakai and Fuji were somewhat relieved and smiled at the suggestion.

"So, what does the great Jackson intuition tell us?"

A small grin.

"Well... for one thing, I know her appetite will be back. Have Miller tell Yoshi to deliver some food over."

"And a whole bunch of grapes, too," added Sakai.

Jackson nodded. "We were careless to leave the keys to the bikes in the garage, so from now on all keys will be on our person at all times."

Fuji nearly laughed. "She's terribly smart for her own good. Who's to say she won't hotwire one of the cars?"

The burly guard considered the thought before lifting his gaze to their charge in the immersion chamber. "Mitsui-san won't let that happen."

"I hope so," mumbled Sakai, the fragility of Reiko's condition weighing heavily in his mind once more. "For her sake, I really hope so."

"Speaking of Mitsui, where is he?" asked Fuji, his eyes scanning the expanse of the lab. His gaze stopped in front of the immersion chamber, the jacket Mitsui wore making him look bigger than he really was, his hand touching the acrylic tank that contained Reiko in its waters. The white coats reported their readings out loud to their superior, Yoshikawa responding with monosyllabic words. "Oh boy," muttered Fuji. "We sure have a lot of explaining to do."

The older guards drew their gazes at Mitsui, frozen like a posed mannequin, his longing hand walled off by the thickness of the acrylic tank, his head bowed in deep thought. It was no surprise to them; all these years he believed she was dead, only to be tossed into a bittersweet reunion with her as a motionless waif. Jackson gritted his teeth at the display of yearning. He knew it was hell unspoken.

"Leave the explaining to me," his uttered, his bass voice deep and full of conviction.

Eyes adjusting to her watery surroundings, Reiko blinked a few times before realizing she was suspended in the immersion chamber, the waters that engulfed her now a rosy hue. She saw the outline of a man whose hand leaned against the tank, his eyes looking down at the floor. Regardless of the shoulder restraint and the encompassing ache she felt, she forced herself to move through the water.

The lab coordinator slightly gaped at the motion. "She's awake!"

All eyes were upon her and Mitsui stared in captivation as she made her way slowly against the glass's surface, her grey eyes meeting Mitsui's intense gaze as she moved her right hand to press against the glass where his hand rested, a smile hidden behind the oxygen mask. A small grin crept across Jackson's face, the demonstrative scene full of tacit emotion.

A gasp.

"Sir, take a look at monitor three!"

A steep, slow-climbing linear line.

Mumbles of awe.

Yoshikawa couldn't believe the results of the graph as it recorded the transfer rate of ions. His eyes moved back and forth from the monitor to the quiet pair divided by the chamber's wall. His hunch was right; Mitsui made all the difference. Elated and confused at the outcome, Yoshikawa's hands raked through his hair in contentment. Before he could utter a word, Jackson was behind him and patted the shorter man's shoulder in silent praise. One of the lab coats counted off before shutdown, and as he did, Mitsui watched as her hand moved slowly to her face, her index finger pointing to the corner of her eye before pointing to him.

"Yes, I know..." he whispered, tears of relief overwhelming him. _I see you, too._

When they took her out of the chamber, she was incredibly tired, her voice barely audible when she voiced her exhaustion before succumbing to the weariness and the pain. So when she fell asleep while she was taken to the imaging room for brain scans, it was no surprise to anybody. She was oblivious to the sighs of relief from Yoshikawa and the others when the results came out, to the brief introduction of Mitsui to the men in white lab coats, and to the wordless storm of anticipation in Mitsui's eyes.

* * *

Mrs. Mitsui looked somberly out the window at the downpour that didn't look like ceasing, her ear against the telephone.

Ring.

"Hello, you have reached Mitsui Hisashi. Sorry, I can't take your call right now, but please leave me your name and number and I will try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks."

Beep.

"Hisashi, it's Mom... honey, we're worried that you haven't called home... Miyagi-kun and Aya-chan call everyday looking for you. Please call us back."

Click.

Mrs. Mitsui bit her lip in worry, her thumb involuntarily tapping against the kitchen counter, the anxiety that shrouded her visage all too perceptible in Ami's vigilant eyes.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon when the last of the doctors left the Nakamichi estate, Yoshikawa lingering a few moments longer before leaving. It was remarkable how the utmost care was taken to provide for Reiko's comfort; their dormant charge was handled very delicately, from the way the female doctors changed her out of the hospital gown into sleeping garments, to the quiet fluffing of her pillows before she was placed onto her bed. All that time Mitsui watched from the foyer, his eyes turned up at the quiet bustle of the doctors and guards in and out of Reiko's room. Surprisingly, the ecstatic dog that was initially all too happy to see such activity in the house now stayed by Mitsui's side, its watchful eyes monitoring the many legs that walked to and fro.

Mitsui noted the slow, guarded movements of Miller, the careful breaths he took when he told Mitsui to make himself at home while they tended to her. He reluctantly followed Miller into vast reading room where he sank into the softness of the leather couch, his tired eyes looking out the window at the rain that beat relentlessly against the tall windows of the room, the corgi settling by his feet. Before leaving Mitsui, Miller cautiously turned around to face the brooding shooting guard.

"Mitsui-san... for what it's worth... I want to apologize to you for having deceived you all these years..."

Blink.

_I don't even know what to say to that._

"We were never for it to begin with, but... she had an obligation to keep."

Uncertainty.

"I can't pretend to understand any of this."

A nod.

"I know... it's not my place to explain something so personal to her..."

_Personal?_

"... But for now, all that matters is that you're here and that she's safe. I'm afraid I'll be useless to the most important questions you have, because the others and I are merely instruments of a grander design to ensure her survival. So please... I beg of you to draw out your patience just a little more, just until she wakes up. I hope by then you can get the answers you seek."

It was like asking a fish out of water to hold its breath a minute longer.

Mitsui closed his eyes and simply nodded.

Jackson found his charge's beau sitting quietly in the stillness of the reading room, his head looking down at the floor and suspended by arms resting against his thighs. Had he not stirred out of his pensive silence, the guard might have mistaken him for one of the sculpted fixtures in the room.

Each regarded the other with a weary eye, both having similar dark circles around their tired eyes.

"Mitsui-san, I'll take you up to see her now."

They made their way up the stairs, dog trailing behind, their tread light and unhurried, each step taking Mitsui closer to current reality. It scared him to death.

A hoarse whisper.

"Will she be okay?"  
A quiet grunt.

"She's safe now, thanks to you."

The door to her room opened, revealing his sleeping beauty tucked underneath a very soft-looking blanket, her visage serene as if no life-threatening event ever touched her. The patter of rain against the skylight echoed throughout the room, no doubt lulling her deeper into sleep, and the dog took its place at the foot of the bed. Mitsui immediately relaxed at the sight, his sigh audible to Jackson whose lips curled up slightly. His small grin disappeared as quickly as it came; explanations now had to be given.

"Mitsui-san, I promised you answers," he whispered, silently motioning Mitsui to follow him out the door. Not really wanting to leave where he wanted to be all these years, he wordlessly trailed behind the guard until they stood by the balcony just in front of the door. The expectant look on Jackson's face provoked Mitsui's mouth to open in hesitancy.

"I... I don't know where to start..."

A pause.

"I can start for you."

A nod of consent.

"We've been in California since the car bombing."

"Why did you leave?"

"It was what Dr. Nakamichi wanted."

Hush.

"I just needed a word... one simple word to let me know, to just even hint that she's alive... why didn't she tell me?"

Imaginable anguish.

"It probably hurt too much... she was already in pieces when she left you, little less keep it together to tell you."

"Why did any of you not tell me?"

Frustration.

"We could only do as we were told."

A long bout of stillness.

Sigh.

"Why America?"

Reluctance.

"It's a little too late to ask Dr. Nakamichi."

"Where is he now?"

Closed eyes.

"At the bottom of Lake Kanagawa."

Awkward silence.

Revelation.

"You... you mean, a few days ago... over there by Yoshi-san's restaurant... the woman on that boat..."  
"Miller said he saw you looking at us. I hoped that you could understand her situation with that glimpse... I knew it was too much to hope for."

"I... didn't know... and the vase?"

Too obvious for words.

Mitsui felt his heart twist in sorrow, the feeling of betrayal melting until he had nothing but unspoken condolences in his head. The one person she called family was no more. Was he the reason why she left, to fulfill his request to spend time with him? Words from the past echoed through his head.

_"I can't tell you, Mitsui-san..."_

His heart raced at the recollection of her tear-streaked face, her eyes pleading for understanding as she bade him goodbye.

_"I can't..._ _I have to carry this burden myself..."_

_Burden..._

Untold devotion to her uncle began to unfold, Miller's earlier words now dawning insight on him, though not in full. He wanted to know more, so much that he wanted to drown in understanding, but the exhausted look on Jackson's haggard face begged him to adjourn his curiosities after some much needed rest. Mitsui didn't know what happened the night before, and the guard didn't look like he got much sleep then. That made two of them.

"Mitsui-san, I know it's been years... and I know you want to be with her..."

Mitsui bit his lower lip in wordless agreement, the breath in his throat catching.

Pausing to recollect his thoughts, Jackson continued. "She's been under intense physical training lately, and last night at the exercise field, something went wrong and she snapped... Yoshikawa said she's been under a tremendous amount of stress, and the pressure to perform at her peak she fueled herself. We've been told to look for you in the hopes of pacifying her erratic urges to flee, and you don't know what a relief it is for me to see you here."

"She wants to run away?"

A somber nod.

"I don't think she means to... but her inclination to run last night was so fierce that she bruised Miller's ribs and managed to knock the rest of us off our feet just to ensure her escape..."

Mitsui's eyes widened at his disclosure.

"And yet... only recently have I begun to realize that the reason for her impulse to flee was to search for you. Somewhere inside the recesses of her mind lay the dormant desire to find you, and it took that temporary moment of insanity to draw it out."

Mitsui looked away to see her sleeping quietly in her bed, fighting the control the tears that would come if he let them.

"Why couldn't she just tell you what she wanted?"  
Jackson took a moment to ponder the question. "You know, Mitsui-san... in all my years of service to this family, I have yet to hear her say the word 'want'."

Both their gazes now rested on Reiko, the slow and steady swell of her breathing comforting to both.

"I... I'm incredibly tired, Mitsui-san. I was wondering if we could continue this later," requested Jackson, his thick fingers rubbing over his weary brow.

"Sure," his voice cracked, never taking his eyes off her. "Jackson-san? Can I stay here?

It was a reasonable request, one that Jackson was about to ask of him anyway. "That would be fine. There's a chair in the corner... it might not be comfortable should you fall asleep in it, and I can't guarantee you what state of mind she'll be in. So please, watch over her."

At Mitsui's nod Jackson turned and descended down the stairs, and it took every remaining ounce of energy to tread lightly down the steps, through the back door and finally into the servants' quarters. It had been such a crazy day and a half; they had all been on the edge, driven by adrenaline, and their bodies inevitably crashed with fatigue. Mitsui was here and she was safe. Any thing more can wait until he got some sleep.

Quietly carrying the chair and placing it by the bedside, Mitsui took his seat silently, his gaze completely glued to Reiko's sleeping face. He couldn't recall the exact moment when his heart was yoked to her happiness, he only knew she owned it long ago and now her misfortunes weighed on and grated sharply at his being, regardless of the succor he felt being near her in this quiet setting.

_So peaceful..._

She claimed to have found him, just before she fell out of consciousness on the wet pavement.

In his heart of hearts, he knew that at that moment, she had saved him from the fires of hellish worthlessness that threatened to consume his soul.

* * *

Restrained.

She had been awake for some time now, finding herself in her bedroom once more, left to wonder if what happened out in the rain was another nightmare. Her answer: a sling for her left arm, an elastic wrap securing the extremity's fixed position.

_What did I do now?_

She grew not to mind the limitation, because despite the desire to move, she felt as if every muscle in her supine body was sore, and the pain just above her sternum did not make her any more eager to animate her body. _Maybe a little later... _She managed to pick up her head at the sound of gentle breathing by the side of her bed; she nearly let a gasp out loud, her eyes speaking volumes of surprise at the man asleep against the bed's egde.

_Mitsui-san!_

Collecting herself, she carefully and quietly let a breath of uncertainty out her nostrils, her eyes studying the features of the sleeping sentinel whose arms pillowed his head on the edge of the large bed, breathing calmly and steady. Was this really the same person, the man she had left years ago? Grey orbs traced the handsome lines of her dormant protector's face, from the tousled hairs on his head to the small scar just by his chin, from the arms that pillowed his drowsy head to the calloused fingers of his thick hands. His upper torso was bent over to rest on the bed, and she wondered how such position could bring any comfort, little less sleep. Her gaze strayed once more to his face, the tired lines under his eyes a small clue of exhaustion.

_And it is all my fault..._

She let a whimper escape her throat at the recollection of her violence toward her bodyguards. She suddenly remembered all too well, the rain pelting against her seared skin as her leg flew hard against Miller's rib cage, her hands fisting the sheets like she was reliving the moment when she threw punches against Jackson, the swift kick to Fuji's chin, the blow against Sakai's chest that knocked the air out of the guard's lungs. She blinked as her heart raced and she shuddered in shame, terrified of the voices and the headaches that drove her to the brink of lunacy, fearful that she might harm again.

_Mr. Miller's motorcycle..._

Willing herself to calm down, she began to count silently, closing her eyes as she focused on her breathing, forcing the fleeting images of rain and panic off her thoughts. She had to think that all she had left and all that mattered was the breath in her lungs; she refused to lose control like she did in the past, long before the headaches, long before the voices; her concentration honed at the crux of it all: the sinking feeling of hopelessness, the hole in her heart that left her bereft of self-worth. She would laugh wistfully at her self-pity if she could stop herself from counting, yet all she could do was tally from one number on to the next...

_I wasn't always lonely..._

At this thought she stopped, her breathing had resumed a calmer rate, and her eyes opened to behold her slumbering savior. No, she wasn't always lonely... for a brief moment of her life, the void that left her a shell was filled by Mitsui's unyielding amity, and his love brought her to a plane of contentment. She bit her lip, wanting to reach out and touch him, rouse him from his sleep to tell him how much she missed him, how she wanted to hold him every day they were apart, how much she wanted to find comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

_To want..._

She quickly reprimanded herself, a small, shrill voice in her head harshly reproaching her for such thoughts.

_So selfish..._

Her eyes threatened to shed tears when a figure appeared before the doorway, her gaze quickly upon him, her dog eagerly approaching the visitor. It was Miller, dressed in charcoal pajamas, his hands moving silently to sign to her quiet words of concern. She smiled as she deciphered the soundless language, trying not to wince at the soreness of her right arm as she signed back to her guard. Her smile widened as he brought a finger to his lips, jerking a thumb at Mitsui. When asked how he knew she was awake, he pointed to a credit card-sized device, pointed to spots over his chest before finally pointing to her. Her head tilted in question, the tips of her fingers trailing over her chest until she felt raised patches stuck to her skin, her eyes meeting his in comprehension: her racing pulse was being monitored and it had woken him up.

Miller didn't know whether to be thrilled or worried that she was conscious; like a hand recently burnt, he was a little wary of this meeting, not knowing whether to expect another fiery encounter or a desperate rescue. He felt rectified when she moved her hand to sign she was sorry for his ribs and for the motorcycle, her grey eyes casting an apologetic look that set Miller at ease. He took a moment to read into her crestfallen expression before wearing a small grin, gesturing that it was all an accident. Taking a glance at the monitoring device, he flashed a grin and gave her a thumbs-up. Pleased at her guard's approval, she smiled back before signing a request.

May I go downstairs?

Looking at Mitsui passed out and bent over on Reiko's bed, he signed back.

Why? You need your rest. If you need something, I can get it for you.

She pointed to her stomach and Miller stifled a chuckle.

Okay, I'll heat up what Yoshi sent over. It won't take long.

Gesturing her thanks, the guard disappeared and her eyes fell upon Mitsui once more. She heard him sigh in his sleep and it nearly made her reach out to him. Had she not been so sore or restrained, she would have given into the lure of touching him. So when his eyes snapped open, it startled a gasp from her lips.

Blinking a few times, he pushed himself off the bed and swung his eyes to lock with her startled gray ones.

There was a long, watchful silence between them, neither of them stirring or saying a word, each wondering how it was possible to look into what their souls longed to see for what seemed like a lifetime's wait. Mitsui's breath choked in his throat when he saw her lips turn up to smile; it was like the sun breaking through overcast skies.

Spying the two eye themselves in speechless fascination, Miller cleared his throat before entering the bedroom with a breakfast tray of lasagna and grapes in his hands. "I'm sorry to wake you, Mitsui-san, but Nakamichi-dono got hungry." Miller wanted to laugh at the bewildered look on Mitsui's face, one that asked if he was really present in the room. Setting the tray down the far corner of the bed, he helped Reiko up to a sitting position, making him wince in pain as she leaned against the headboard, apologizing to him once more, further thanking him for his aid and the food. Bringing the tray to her, he excused himself after looking at the Mitsui and told his charge to ring for him should she need anything more. With that, he addressed Mitsui as he got out of his chair.

"Mitsui-san, I'll leave her in your care now."

He watched Miller call out to the dog and saunter out the door before turning to face his new responsibility looking quietly at him.

"Hello, Mitsui-san," she greeted meekly.

He didn't answer. Instead, he walked towards the bed, sat on its edge, reached for the napkin by the small plate and placed it over her lap. She watched mutely, not knowing what to say as he took the fork to slice a small piece of lasagna, his actions slow and deliberate as he offered the piece to her, questioning gray beholding earnest brown eyes, his gaze unnerving her to open her mouth and receive his offering. She grew anxious of his silence and found it hard to chew and swallow, something other than hunger eating at her.

"Is it good?" he finally asked, taking the napkin to wipe the corner of her lip, the act surprising her.

"Yes," she answered with a quiver in her voice.

He said nothing more as he forked the lasagna piece by piece and raising it to her mouth until she consumed all of it, her eyes averted from his scrutinizing ones. Replacing the fork on the tray, his eyes lingered to examine the withdrawn look on her face before leaning back a bit, sighing as his face contorted into a sad smile.

"God, you're beautiful," his voice cracked, getting up to sit in the chair he fell asleep in.

Pause.

A groan.

"... Any minute now, I'm going to wake up."

She opened her mouth to speak, but words did not come. His tone changed.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her brows rose.

"Jackson-san told me... that you've been in America all this time."

Remorse.

"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"Be... because..."

Clenched jaws.

Mitsui stood and shook his head, his hands balling up in fists of restraint. "Tell me, tell me why you hid from me!"

Reiko shut her eyes in shame, tears of regret streaming down her cheeks. He didn't relent.

"I could've dealt with you being gone _just a little better_ if I was left some word... _one_ word of your survival... I wouldn't have let myself go insane missing you!"

"I—I... please forgive me!"

When the sobs that racked her shuddering frame finally pervaded his enraged senses, Mitsui felt like the lowest, scummiest heel. He sat back on the edge of the bed, his back towards her. "I'm so sorry, Reiko-san... I... It's just... every waking minute since I heard you were alive, all I've wanted to do was to find you and hear you tell me why... being a jerk is the last thing I want to be. Forgive me."

She felt him shift against the bed, Mitsui now facing her and yet her eyes remained downcast, tears falling freely from her eyes. In her days of solitude and exile in California, the thought of Mitsui feeling betrayed did not escape her, and his reaction to her absence was something for which she had not mentally prepared enough. The fact that she was in the same room with him, breathing in the same air was entirely liberating, and yet his wrath also instilled a fear she had never experienced at the same time. She could do nothing but weep bitterly at the circumstances that led to her departure.

Mitsui was beside himself in shame. Wasn't this what he wanted, to see her, to be with her, to talk to her again? All he had accomplished so far was driving her to tears and winning the award for the most callous man on earth. He didn't want it to be like this.

"I—I'd like to start over, if that's okay," he said, reaching out to lift her chin to face him, her eyes blinking away tears. When he got her attention, Mitsui took her hand and shook it gently.

"My name is Mitsui Hisashi. I'll turn twenty-five late in May. I'm an engineer by trade, and I work for Pinnacle Engineering."

After a moment of confusion, she understood what he was trying to do. The tears stopped flowing and streaked her cheeks as they descended and dried, her right hand remaining captive in Mitsui's clutch.

"I recently completed my training at Tetsuo's Bartending Academy, and I graduated with flying colors."

His fingers met the smooth yielding texture of her cheeks, wiping the wetness away, the gesture extinguishing the trepidation in her heart.

"I shoot some hoops from time to time, and sometimes I lift weights."

He let her hand go only to turn it palm up, threading his thick fingers through her slender ones.

"The last book I read... was 'Hope After The Loss Of A Loved One'." An abashed smile crossed his lips. "I never got past the first chapter."

Her features softened at the small confession, not knowing whether to apologize again or to praise him for saving his time in not reading the book.

"I was driving to a friend of mine's house whom I haven't seen in years... well, I'd like to think she was my _girl_friend, but... never mind. She was the most important thing to me, and she still is..." Mitsui looked up coyly from their tangled hands into her quizzical eyes. "So... what was I saying?"

She couldn't help but smile. "You were driving to a friend's house."  
"Yes, I was about to go to my dear friend's house when this red motorcycle crossed my path. Minutes later when I was refused entry to the subdivision, I found the red motorcycle and its driver on the rainy pavement."

Like a clap thunder startling her, Reiko remembered the drizzly event. The motorcycle hit something she didn't see and when she came to, she was on the ground, her rescuer shouting through the rain and asking if she was all right.

"And now I am relieved, bewildered and sorry at the same time. Relieved that the driver of the motorcycle is rescued. Bewildered that the driver of the motorcycle is my long-lost friend. Sorry because instead of telling her how happy I am to hear and see her alive, I threw a childish tantrum and reared the ugly head of my insecurities. Well, one of them, anyway..."

Meeting her grey eyes with his penitent gaze, he swallowed the lump in his throat and silently prayed for her forgiveness. She nodded as if to bow, the suppressed wince on her face caught by his watchful eyes.

"My name is Nakamichi Reiko. I will turn twenty-four this Christmas. I do not have a particular trade, but my tutelage covers many fields of study."

He grinned sadly at her mimicry, the forgiveness he sought was as close to this as he allowed himself to receive.

"I recently came to Japan to fulfill my late uncle's last wish, and that was to be at the place where I played piano the most."

_Yoshi-san's restaurant_...

Despite the soreness of her muscles, Reiko managed to straighten herself, sitting in an Indian position and her upper torso leaning slightly forward.

"Every morning I practice t'ai chi, but for some reason I could not do so this morning because I gave into the urge of finding someone very close to my heart."

Mitsui heard the defeat in her voice, eyes avoiding his before finally falling upon their linked hands. His heart was working overtime.

"I... am the last living descendant of the Nakamichi line," her voice croaked, Mitsui's hand momentarily gripping hers in solace. "With the exception of my guards who loyally guard my every move regardless of how clumsy I have been lately, I live alone in this house."  
It saddened Mitsui to hear her say the obvious, something she hid from all those times he was with her. She gently pushed away from his clutch, plucked a grape from its bunch and opened her mouth to eat it. She stopped midway, bringing the grape to her eyes for close scrutiny, her voice flowing in gentle earnestness from her lips.

"All my life I've read from books, took from them the knowledge of others and applied them in ways that many others could not, this ability a gift from God... and yet, the simplest, most profound lesson I've ever learned in my life was in tasting the sweetness of this fruit, something I thought God denied me forever."

Finally placing the small purple globe in her mouth, her mouth drowned in the sweetness of its juice as she ate it, the sugary taste lingering on her tongue. Mitsui understood what she meant and wanted to savor that same taste, the dizzying saccharine flavor his lips savored once before coupled with the joy of her acceptance that magnified his delight a thousand fold.

"I was compelled to take the birthday gift I gave to Mr. Miller to find the one who gave me happiness for a brief moment of my life... I could no longer suppress the need to see him."

Her gaze pierced through him like a diver through water, the magical, astonishing change of her eye color throwing him into quiet reverie.

"I had to find him because I owe him many things... an apology... explications...... my life."

It was getting harder and harder for Mitsui to find the air.

"How many nights I wished to see you again, I have lost count. I only had dreams of you to keep me company, and memories of you to remind me of how wonderful life could be, even if it was only for a little while."

"So why did you decide to leave?" he asked, his timbre soft as a whisper.

"It was Uncle Tak's wish to give me a better way of reaping the toxins from my body before he left."

An understanding sigh.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your uncle."

She nodded quietly.

"If I'd have known it was because of him, I would've understood."

"It was not just for him."

"What do you mean?"  
"You asked me repeatedly, why I did not tell you... I did so by choice, no matter how painful it was for you... and me."

"Then why?" he whined.  
"Because I could not risk involving you in trouble only directed toward me... it is not my wish for you to be in harm's way."

Mitsui was dumbfounded. What harm could he have been in? Her wishes exasperated him.

"Why do you keep _wishing_ for things? Don't you ever _want_ anything?"

A long, long silence. When he thought she wouldn't answer, her voice replied, repentant and full of regret. "The last time I wanted something was when I wanted my parents, Hideki onii-san and Midori onee-san to come to my recital, so many years ago... not only did I want them to come, I _demanded _that they come, and like devoted loved ones trying to pacify the tantrums of the brat I was, they got on that plane that never landed... I am blessed with wealth, and anything that required money was never hard to get, and I cannot recall ever wanting any one thing... except for my family to sit in the audience and listen to my performance... Had I not been so selfish then, my family would be alive today... Mr. Jackson would still have my sister to love... and Fuji-san and Mr. Miller would have their fathers... Had I not been selfish then..."

She had lost the words in her grief, unable to relive the monumental loss that consumed her all those years. Mitsui took hold of her, his arms gently wrapping around her as he leaned his forehead against her good shoulder.

"Stop... you can stop now. I don't want you to go through this again."

A momentary pause.

"That is exactly why I could not tell you, Mitsui-san... I lost so much then, and my uncle is gone now... all I have left is the hope that you would still be here... that you would remember me still... that you could forgive me. If I told you then, the ones wanting me dead would have found out... before, Mr. Jackson told me that Nanami-san and the rest of my teammates were taken hostage by Kawamura-sensei, that he had hurt Nanami-san... I did not want that, I do not want anything that would harm you or any one else on account of knowing me as their friend... I do not want them to know that I love you, because if they found out, they will surely exploit my attachment to you to get what they want from me and I would give up my ghost before I let them touch a hair on your head... I do not want to lose any more of the people I love, and you are the only one left... I do not... and cannot want anymore."

He was filled with such anguish in his heart that he began to cry, knowing now the extent and reason of her selflessness, the arms around her tightening in their clutch. The pressure made her ache but she no longer cared for the pain. Every thing she kept in her heart was finally out in the open, she no longer had anything to hide. It was enough to be content in the warmth of his embrace.

"I rejoice that you are still here, I am delighted that you remember me... but... could you find it in your heart to forgive me? I am afraid only you can give me the redemption I seek."

Mitsui couldn't believe it: she was telling him the words he himself wanted to say. Was it possible for their hearts to beat as one, for their minds to think the same thoughts, for their wills to seek the same deliverance? When he looked into her eyes, he knew the answer.

A plump grape.

"My only regret," he said, taking the purple globe between his fingers, "is that I couldn't be there to comfort you." He wiped his tears with the back of his hand before losing it in the soft locks of her hair, his palm gently cradling the back of her head. "I just wanted to be with you... to fulfill your every wish." He lost himself in the azure depths of her eyes. "If you cannot want, please tell me... what is it that you wish for now?"

She took a deep breath as if she had been deprived of it. "To remain here with you... if it would please you."

If it could, Mitsui's heart would have shouted at the top of its beating chambers in elation. "Nothing would please me more... except..."

Reiko couldn't tear herself away from his gaze. "Except?"

"This," he replied, tossing the grape in his mouth, jaws quickly crushing it before his lips met hers for a desperate kiss that stoked a fire of hunger for her he could no longer ignore.

* * *

Consumed.

"You can be selfish now... If you won't allow yourself to be, then allow me."

A sigh.

"I love you. I love you in my sleep. I love you when I dream. I love you when I wake, when I eat, when I work... I love you with every shot I make on the court, and with every push of the weight that was twice my own on the bench."

Blush.

"This love leaves me in want... and I want you."

Necklace unclasped.

Familiar pendant.

"I want to be with you."

Ring unthreaded.

"I want to hold your hand and run like children at play."  
Another kiss.

"I want to wake up beside you every morning, kiss you before I go to work, and sleep next to your warmth at night."

Bold words.

"I want to feel your skin against mine... I want to take you to heights of pleasure with me... I want to hold you... naked in my arms... sacred in my heart... till the day I die."

A visceral plea.

"I want to marry you."

Shock.

"And I won't take 'no' for an answer, even if I have to beg and do whatever it takes for you to agree."

Surprising fit.

"So..."

On his knees.

"... Will you allow me to be selfish?"

A yielding smile.

"And what would you do if I say 'no'?"

Worry.

"Whatever you wish."  
A pensive moment.

"It will be difficult to be with me, Mitsui-san."

Determination.

"No difficulty will be too great to win your hand."

"I will be subjected to numerous experiments in the days to come—"

"I will be by your side."

"And the physical training is intense—"

"I will train with you."

Near laughter.

"I might be too exhausted to entertain your whims—"

"Then I will carry you with me, anywhere you want to go."

A small grin.

"I will be in tanks of water and electric current from time to time—"

"Then I will brag to all my friends that I have the most beautiful mermaid swimming in the basement."

"And they will put numerous needles into my body."  
"Needles?"  
"Yes, needles."  
A pause.

"Then... I guess we can start a pin cushion factory."  
She laughed.

"I am trying to tell you that it will not always be easy."

"And I'm trying to tell you that you can throw whatever you got in your little arsenal of reasons, but nothing will deter me from you."

"I would like for you to see with your eyes all of that I have described... a sample, so to speak... in case you decide to retreat from selfishness."  
An arched brow.

"Is that a challenge?"

She shook her head. He was impossible.

"Then I accept."

Miller finally went to bed after the small heart monitor ended its rollercoaster ride and remained on a steady beat. He heard the dog snore by his bed, and he grinned as he closed his eyes. At least someone was getting some sleep.

At last, all was still in the servants' house.


	24. Chapter 23

        She wasn't kidding.

        The next day when he was taken to the lab by Miller, Mitsui was unprepared to see Reiko lying supine on the examining table with many needles stuck in her skin, their number too many to count in one glance.  The sight made him weak in the knees when he saw her through the small windows of the double doors, and when some of the lab coats began to twist the needles in place, it made him shudder and he couldn't bring himself to follow Miller any further through the doors.  He knew she told him before, but he had no idea she was going to resemble something close to a seamstress' pin cushion.  That morning he woke up next to an empty space in the bed, and had it not been for Miller who waited for him to rouse downstairs, he would've been frantic and wouldn't have known what it's like to be weak again at the sight of needles puncturing skin.  Her beautiful, flawless skin…

        // _God, I'm so pathetic… it's not like _I'm _the one getting stuck. _//  He hoped that she wasn't as lame as he was where he stood, knees threatening to buckle.  

        He took a deep breath and turned around before letting it out slowly, willing himself to calm down.  Miller was a little amused at his reaction and nearly asked Mitsui if the reason why he refused to go inside the lab was because of the needles or because Reiko was wearing nothing but the two towels that covered her chest and pelvis, which then begged a gnawing, very personal question.  He mimicked Mitsui's about-faced posture and quietly cleared his throat.  Mitsui glanced at the young guard.

        "Uh… Mitsui-san?" Miller whispered.

        "Yeah?"  
        Awkwardness.

        "Last night… did… did you and Nakamichi-dono…"

        After several seconds of hesitation and reddening, Mitsui caught on.

        "Nothing happened, if that's what you want to know," he murmured back.

        Miller heaved a sigh.  "Sorry to be so blunt."

        Mitsui blinked and grinned.  "It's okay.  You're her bodyguard after all."

        Miller dug his hands in his pockets and occupied his gaze with the blinking lights on the wall of monitors.  "You know, you're all she's got..."

        "I won't hurt her, if that's what you're getting at."  
        The guard shook his head.  "It's not just that…"

        Mitsui was confused.  "What is it?"  
        Miller motioned for Mitsui to follow him farther away from the double doors of the lab and into the hallway.  Once the doors swung closed behind them, Miller explained.

        "I'm no genius like her, but I know Nakamichi-dono chose to go along with her uncle's request partly because she wanted to protect you."

        Mitsui slowly nodded in understanding.  

        "We will probably protect her for the rest of our lives, but you're the only one who really counts in this equation if she's to get through this," Miller said, his tone low and soft, his hand lightly rubbing against the bandage under his shirt.  "Her uncle's final days were spent in refining her blood… and she's done nothing but submit herself to this madness we choose not to see at this moment.  We nearly combed all of Japan to find you, because as Yoshikawa-san guessed, you were the only one who could calm the tempest in her mind."  

        Miller paused to look through the small windows of the double doors.  The lab coats were finally taking the needles out.

        "I don't know why I'm telling you this… I guess I'm just concerned… I've pretty much grown up with her and her family and she's like a sister to me… and… I just want her to be happy.  She's lost so much…"  
        Mitsui was impressed by Miller's devotion, and his respect for the guard akin to the greatness of a samurai's honor.  

        "… I just want to let you know that it might not be easy for you… to be with her."

        Mitsui nodded at the guard, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he remembered what Jackson told him by the balcony seats of the annex gym over three years ago.  "When I thought she was dead, I couldn't function a day without wishing she was alive.  Now that she's here, it's like I got a second chance on life.  I think living through those days was the most difficult part of it all.  Undergoing any obstacle just to be with her will be heaven compared to the hell of an empty life I had without her."  He paused a moment to search for the right words.  "I know what you're talking about, Miller-san.  She gave me the same caution last night... and the only response I could give her… was that I have nothing to lose and everything to gain in being with her.  I've already bottomed out years ago…"  Mitsui cracked a sheepish grin.  "God knows I've thrown myself in debt in an attempt to forget her, only to find out that ring was going to serve a greater purpose."  
        Miller cocked his head sideways.  "What ring?" he asked, wondering why he didn't ask about this 'greater purpose' first.  
        Taking a deep breath, Mitsui looked the guard straight in the eyes.

        "I thought I'd never see Reiko-san again, and I hated myself for always submitting to visions of her I thought I would never see in real life... so in a lame attempt to both remind me of her eyes and help ease the reality of her death, I... I bought a blue diamond ring a couple of days ago."  Mitsui took his gaze away for a second to look down on the tile floor, abashed at his words.  "Pretty pathetic, huh?"  
        Miller read the struggle from the past in the man's face, the crease between his brows and the uncomfortable grin on his face speaking volumes under the guard's scrutiny.  How Mitsui must love his charge... 

        "No, I don't think it's pathetic at all, Mitsui-san."  

        A pat on the back.  

        "In fact, I really admire how you've kept it together after all this."  Miller took out the heart monitor from his coat pocket and glanced at the pulsing graphics on the LCD screen.  "Nakamichi-dono, on the other hand... I guess the other night was the last she could withstand."

        Mitsui stood and leaned against the wall.  "Miller-san... Jackson-san told me Dr. Nakamichi recently died... how did he die?      Quieted by his question, Miller replaced the heart monitor in his pocket and kept his gaze on the floor.  "Rather painfully."  He paused to look over his shoulder through the windows of the double doors once more.  "Dr. Nakamichi died of lung cancer.  He had known for a while but never told any of us... I suppose if I were in his shoes, I'd do the same if only to preserve my niece's happiness," he said, glancing quickly at Mitsui.  "All thanks to you."

        Mitsui held his tongue, the sight of Miller falling into a brief and silent state of melancholy commanding a respectful hush from him.  Miller heaved a sigh.  "But... when he found out she was being stalked again, he felt pressured to ask her to come back to America until..."  Visions of past assassinations filled the guard's mind.  "Until the threats were gone.  I... I don't know much of what was said, but actions often paint a brighter picture than spoken words, and what I saw then was a man clinging desperately to what little time he had left on this earth to leave his niece the last piece of his ingenuity he could give her..."

        // _The__ immersion chamber? _//

        "Dr. Nakamichi worked day and night with his niece, hired all the white coats you see in the lab, even asked an old Chinese master to teach her t'ai chi—"

        "I'm sorry to interrupt, Miller-san, but Reiko mentioned that in passing, to help her focus... I don't understand why Jackson-san said she was under intense physical training.  Does it have something to do with the immersion chamber?"  
        "With the whole process, yes, but with the chamber, no."  Miller glanced at his watch.  It was nearly time for the needles to come out.  "The chamber does nothing more than hold and contain the water, the substrate mix and Nakamichi-dono together, along with the electric current.  From what Yoshikawa explained to me, the process is heat-driven and dependent on her metabolism.  To achieve their goal transfer rate, her metabolism has to be at the highest it could without doing her bodily harm... except in the other night's case, it did."

        Mitsui was trying to sort it out in his head.  "So... all this so she could live... because her blood is different?"

        Miller nodded.  "Not just live, Mitsui-san.  Live_ longer_.  Money and status can only get you things in life, things that are often taken for granted.  The whole point of it all was to give her a life of ease without physical suffering.  As you can see, she has everything else any person would want... but what every other person has, she lacked until now... at her uncle's expense."  
        It beleaguered Mitsui that so much thought and work went into saving and preserving Reiko's life: the men who guarded her, the people who attended to her in the lab, the very building they were in.  // _She is _that_ important..._ //  He felt so little before the facts Miller relayed, making all the trials in his life look miniscule compared to what she had been through.  Miller moved to answer a call on his cell phone, and Mitsui found the courage once again to look through the double doors to see Reiko surrounded by the white coats, small red containers in one hand, retrieving and discarding the needles with the other.  He whipped his head around when Miller called out to him.

        "Mitsui-san, we received a call from Yoshi-san who told us that some of your friends were looking for you."

        Mitsui felt bad all of a sudden; the rush of events over the last two days left him no room to think of calling his friends back.  Miyagi and Ayako must still be worried about him, Nanami and Akagi went out of their way to search for him, and Sakuragi was most likely placing 'wanted' posters all over town with his picture on it.  "Man, they probably think I'm an asshole of a friend."

        "No, you're not.  You were a _preoccupied_ friend, and I'm sure if you explain the circumstances, they'd understand," Miller grinned, putting his phone away.

        "So you guys didn't tell them where I was?"

        A shake of the head. 

        "From what Yohei-san told us, it seems there's a bounty on your head."

        Mitsui groaned inwardly.  // _That's right, Sakuragi _did_ promise to kick my ass..._ //

        "Don't worry about her, Mitsui-san.  Nakamichi-dono has to go through a lot more tests today, and you'd just get bored if you stay here."

        "Tests?"

        "Mental evaluations, brain scans, the whole mental gamut. They want to know if any of her cognitive abilities were affected by her escape attempts."

        Mitsui stuttered through his thoughts.  "But I… I promised I'd be with her."

        "I understand, but for the next few hours, she has to take a bunch of written tests.  Yoshikawa and the others want no distractions, no matter how pleasant a distraction you may be," Miller said, brows lifting at the insinuation.

        "If you put it that way..."  Mitsui grinned and turned his head once more to look through the windows.  "Can I tell her I'll be back soon?"

        Miller smiled.  "Please do."  As Mitsui walked through the doors, the guard let out a small chuckle.  "Oh, and about the debt you mentioned, I wouldn't worry about it."

        Mitsui merely nodded at the suggestion, not knowing what lay beneath his words as he approached a terry-cloth robed Reiko on the examining table.

****************************************************

        "Hey there, missy."

        Sullen sobs.

        Uprooted grass.

        Surprise.

        "Haruko-chan?"

        Gasp.

        "Mi-Mitsui-senpai!"

        Concern.

        "Are you all right?"

        Shaking head.

        "What's wrong?"

        A sniffle.

        "He hates me."

        "Who hates you?"

        Surrender.

        "Who else?"

        Assumption.

        "What did he do?"

        No answer.

        After visiting his parents' house to tell them he was alive and well, he decided to look for Sakuragi and face the lashing he intended for him.  Mitsui had not expected to see the redhead's girlfriend crying distraughtly on the east lawn of the university grounds, her small sobbing frame hugging her knees as if to shrink away from her sorrow.  She must have been there for awhile, long enough for Mitsui to see the damp leaves of grass beside her seat plucked and uprooted to the point of exposing barren and soggy soil.  That was evidence enough.

        "Hey, hey..." he trailed off as he crouched beside the tearful girl, handing her a handkerchief which she took after a gentle nudge.  "Do you want to talk about it?" Mitsui offered as he studied the crease on Haruko's brow, the sad girl nodding like a child being consoled.  // _Ami cries like this..._ //

        She wiped her eyes and continued to hug her knees close to her chest, her story punctuated with hiccups and sobs as Haruko struggled to find the words.  As Mitsui listened to the story, he couldn't help but shake his head at her explanation, understanding the situation, expecting better out of reactions.

        Too often, lovers take time and close proximity for granted, letting petty quarrels make them lose sight of what is truly important. 

        Maybe he should give Sakuragi a beating instead.  

**************************************************** 

         He didn't know how long he had been on the court, the dribble of the basketball in his possession a droning, almost distant sound to his preoccupied perception.  Coach Miwa was surprised and laughed at his enthusiasm when the redhead center begged him to open the gym for him, and only words of urgency sputtered out of his player to hurry up and turn the key in the lock as soon as possible.  As soon as he was let in, Sakuragi lost himself in the stillness of the court, doing nothing but stand in the middle and staring at the hardwood floor for countless minutes before changing into his practice clothes.  

        It wasn't so much as enthusiasm that drove him to cut all his classes just to shoot a few hoops.  It was more to get away from every one else to sort his troubled thoughts out.  

        And now, as the burnt orange sphere dribbled in and out of his large hand, the redhead found himself at the crossroads of confrontation and doubt.  

        Sakuragi lifted his gaze off the wooden floor to eye the basketball goal, the air in his lungs leaving his nostrils in a slow, forced sigh.  

        "Heartbreaker," he snarled before sprinting and jumping towards the basket for a dunk.  

        Slam!

        Unsatisfied with how outwardly effortless the action was, he retrieved the ball and dribbled back to half court, his head slightly shaking at what happened that late morning, his words failing to convince himself.  

        To say the least, he was happy that Haruko offered to join him in his search for Mitsui, choosing to take them to the Italian restaurant in the hills where they had dinner after winning a bet all those years ago.  When they got there, it seemed like time completely forgot the cozy establishment, for it looked just as relaxed and opulent at the same time, Sakuragi watching his girlfriend eye her surroundings as they walked through the French doors and approached the reservation desk.  To the redhead's surprise, the old proprietor remembered him and commented at their early lunch date.  After explaining to Yoshi with a coy blush that they were not there for a meal and asked he knew of Mitsui's whereabouts, the old man nodded and replied that he would find out.  

        While Yoshi made a phone call, the couple politely waited in silence when one of the waiters approached the proprietor with a small list.  He stopped in mid-stride when he saw the woman by the reservation desk who glanced at the ornate decorations on the wall. 

        "Haruko?  Is that you?" asked the man, making both the old man and Sakuragi turn their heads at the acknowledgement.  

        Haruko's eyes grew wide in recognition.  "Yasu!"  

        The embrace that ensued made Sakuragi's teeth grit in jealousy and surprise, for not only did Haruko hug this guy who was a complete stranger to him, she practically _ran_ into the guy's arms.  

        "God, it's good to see you again!  How have you been?" the waiter asked, raising a hand to Haruko's face to tuck the few straying strands of her hair behind her ear.  The act had the redhead seething in anger well-restrained in clenched fists hidden in his trousers pockets, and he wanted nothing more but for Haruko to swat away the man's hand.  To his disbelief, Haruko merely giggled at the brief caress.

        "I've been fine, I'm here with Sakuragi-kun.  Here, let me introduce you!"  Blinded by the delight of their reunion, Haruko reached for Sakuragi and tugged on his arm.  Reluctantly, he stepped forward and tried to keep his jealous ire in check.  "Sakuragi-kun, this is Yasu.  Yasu, this is Sakuragi-kun, my boyfriend."

        Sakuragi felt some of his resentment towards the bold stranger extinguished as he curtly nodded at the guy, still wondering why Haruko kept addressing the waiter in such a personal manner.  

        "Pleased to meet you, Sakuragi-san," the man said, the close distance between the waiter and his girlfriend irritating him to no end, not to mention the once-over look the man gave him.  What was wrong with him?  _Calm the fuck down, Sakuragi!_  

        "It looks like you two know each other rather well," the redhead said, trying not to sound accusing.  The waiter answered with a sheepish smile.

        "Well, she and I _did_ go on dates a few times... she used to be my girlfriend," he said, punctuating the coy confession with a kiss on Haruko's pink cheek, the latter merely rolling her eyes.

        Sakuragi's jaw fell to the ground at the gesture, not to mention his words, unable to utter a word out of shock.  He felt rooted where he stood, helplessly frozen as he watched his girlfriend and the brazen waiter exchange a few more pleasantries before the old man behind the desk interrupted them with news that Mitsui was with the Miller.  

        "Th-thanks, Ojii-san," stuttered Sakuragi as he mechanically turned around and walked through the French doors, leaving Haruko and her companions in a startled hush.  

        The redhead hadn't spoken to her since then.

        Cursing under his breath, Sakuragi retrieved the ball he just dunked and dribbled back to the center line, jaws clenched in frustration and haunted by the jealousy that still raged within his veins.  He shook his head at the thought.  It wasn't so much as his jealousy toward the damned waiter as the anger and confusion toward his girlfriend whom he had successfully avoided ever since that morning's events.  He couldn't bring himself to look at her, little less voice his inquiry at the Yasu's actions toward her that he vehemently disapproved of without unleashing the fury of his anger with hurtful words.  After all, Haruko _was _his girlfriend, and no one should even think of touching what was his, ex-boyfriend or not.  Unable to control himself, he ignored her pleas for a moment of explanation and avoided her while he still had it together.

        Letting out a growl, he dribbled and sprinted to the basket once more, exploding to a jump as he soared to the basket.

        _Introduce me as Sakuragi-_kun_ while she calls him 'Yasu'?!_

        Slam!

        _How could she let him touch her?!_

        "You fucking bastard!!!" he howled, grabbing the basketball and hurling it against the face of the damned waiter projected on the padded wall in his mind, the burnt orange sphere loudly echoing a thud against the surface of the pad.  

        Sakuragi glared at the ball that bounced away from the wall, knowing he was way out of line.  He shut his eyes and shook his head again.  It wasn't like he prepared for something like this, and he cursed himself for not knowing any better on how to react.  Instead, he retreated, to the one place he knew he could control things, the same sanctuary where he faced and conquered his challenges.

        _Isn't that funny?  **She** was the one who introduced me to this place.  _

        The redhead let a strangled sob escape from his throat and he berated himself for it.  No guy should ever have to cry, especially not over a girl and _especially_ not when it was the girl's fault.  Choking it all inside, the remnants of his anger and frustration manifested itself in quiet, repressed shudders.  He got a hold of himself and straightened up when he heard the doors of the gym creak open, his head turning to the figure sauntering leisurely towards him.  His eyes widened.

        "Sakuragi," Mitsui called out, hands casually digging into his pockets.  "I'm ready for that beating now."

****************************************************

        It was a disaster.  

        Ayumi's face nearly drained of all color when she saw an empty space where the almond extract was supposed to be on the spice rack, and there were no other bottles of it in the pantry.  Nanami caught her young aunt gaping frightfully at the opened cabinet, wondering what was so horrific about a bunch of small bottles.  After a stuttered explanation, Nanami grabbed her dismayed aunt and rushed to the nearest grocery store, going through every inch of the baking aisle like a fine-toothed comb, not leaving a shelf unchecked.  

        Ayumi began to lose hope.  "Nanami-chan, what am I going to do?  The business luncheon is an hour and a half from now… I'll never make the cake in time," her voice wavered.  

        "This isn't the only grocery store, Aunt Ayumi," answered her niece, taking her phone and scrolling through its list of numbers.  "Ayako-chan lives near another one, too."  She pressed the talk button and held the phone against her ear.  "Hello, Ayako-chan?  It's Nanami.  Listen, my aunt is in the middle of a catering crisis, and I was hoping if you could help us find a bottle of almond extract at the store close to you… yeah, it's for one of her important clients… no… no, if she doesn't have it done by then, she might lose their business for good… yeah, a lot is riding on it… you will?  Thank you so much!  I owe you big time!  Call me if you find it!"

        Hanging up, Nanami turned to her aunt whose eyes were glazed over with worry.  "Aunt Ayumi, let's go to the grocery store by the train station.  Don't give up hope, okay?  I'll get my friends to help us."

        Weaving through sidewalks of pedestrians, Ayumi trailed behind Nanami's nimble pace.  When they got to the grocery store, they immediately began their search.  "The main courses are already at the banquet hall, and it's going to take a while for them to eat all that food with all that talking they're going to do.  How long will it take you to bake the cake?"

        "Thirty to forty minutes, but baking isn't the real problem.  It's the decorating that will eat up time."

        Looking up the top shelf, Nanami's eyes scanned the bottles of extracts and spices.  "Why is almond extract so important?"

        Ayumi let out a wry laugh.  "Let's just say that it's the one ingredient that landed me the account to begin with.  After sampling it, they signed the dotted line."

        Nanami sighed as she moved a bottle of vanilla extract aside.  "I wish I could bake like you, Aunt Ayumi."

        "God, I'd bake even better if I could just find a bottle of the stupid stuff," she grumbled, eyes straining to read the small print on the bottles.  

        Fifteen minutes later, they found themselves running across a crowded intersection to the grocery store where Ayako and Sayuri waited inside, their voices raising in pitch at the sight of Nanami and her aunt who tried not to mow any of the shoppers down.  

        "Did you find it?" Nanami asked breathlessly, her gaze hopeful at her two friends.

        "I wasn't able to find any in here," Ayako said, her friend's aunt all but crestfallen at her words, "but Sayuri-chan found a bottle of it at the grocery store in her neighborhood!"

        Nanami jumped both her friends for a crushing hug that took them by surprise.  "I love you guys forever!"

        "We know!" they exclaimed.  

        Handing Ayumi the small plastic bag that held the sought-after spice, she took it with much gratitude and held it close to her like some lost possession of indescribable value.  It took a few seconds before she could snap out of her elation and hear her niece's urging to get going.  Hastening through the sliding double doors of the grocery store, it was now Nanami who trailed behind her aunt, thanking and waving goodbye to her friends.  Ayumi turned her head to do the same, and as soon as her head swung to look ahead of her, she was met with a wall of solid chest.

        "Oh!"

        Crash.

        "Aunt Ayumi!"

        Nanami knelt to where her aunt was on the ground, the latter's eyes shut tight before bringing a hand to her face, Sayuri and Ayako's concerned voices calling out to them upon seeing the accident.  Nanami gasped, making her aunt peer at her through cracked eyes.

        "Your hand, Aunt Ayumi!"

        Pulling her hand away from her face, she looked down to see shards of glass embedded in her bloody palm, the red liquid oozing down her forearm and coalescing with the clear aromatic liquid that dripped past her wrist.  

        "The extract!" Ayumi cried as she fingered through the tangled mess of glass and plastic bag, knowing well enough that there wasn't any more of the liquid spice that was left in the broken bottle.  At this realization, tears of defeat stung her eyes, the throbbing pain in her hand amplifying her loss.

        "I'm so incredibly sorry," a deep voice uttered, making both ladies on the ground look at the suited man moving to crouch down next to them.    

"Jackson-san!" Nanami croaked, her surprise causing her aunt to look up from the catastrophe that was her almond extract-covered bloody hand.  The two other girls were just as surprised.  

        "Please forgive me, Ayumi-san," the large guard apologized again, his thick hand disappearing into his coat pocket to produce a folded square cloth.  "I wasn't watching my step."  The handkerchief gently grazed Ayumi's flustered cheeks, forcing more tears from the corners of her eyes as she blinked, Jackson's tender and contrite gesture unacknowledged at the moment, for the consequences of it all were far greater than the blood loss from her hand.  She fought to suppress a sob.

        "I'm ruined…" she mumbled quietly, bringing the brawny guard's brows to crease in regret and confusion.  Sayuri and Ayako placed concerned hands on the fallen woman's back, uncertain of what to say.  Looking to Nanami, Jackson watched the young woman bite her lower lip in sympathy before addressing the inquiry in the guard's gaze.

        "She... she has a really important business luncheon to cater for today, and we ran out of almond extract for dessert… It's her biggest account, and we're afraid that she might lose it because of this…"

        Ayumi shook her head.  "God, this is all my fault… had I the foresight to check on all the ingredients, this would never have happened."

        Jackson was speechless at the drama unfolding before him, unsure of what to do.  A few moments of thought brought him to move closer to Ayumi side, gently taking Ayumi's injured hand and inspecting the cuts in her palm for embedded shards.  The few that he found he quickly took out with deft fingers and tossed them at the small heap of plastic bag and glass, Ayumi's face wincing as her lips mouthed a silent 'ow'.  Offering a quiet word of apology, Jackson wrapped her hand with the same square cloth and helped Ayumi to her feet, all of them at a loss for words at the steady composure that the guard exuded.  When he was satisfied with Ayumi's calm appearance, he took his cell phone and hit a few buttons.

        "…Fuji, this is Jackson.  Could you do something for me? ...I need you to go to Yoshi's and ask for a bottle of almond extract… yes, almond extract… ask me all that later, but right now I need you to get it for me," Jackson paused, looking at both ladies who eyed him quietly, "and bring it to Ueno Nanami's house."  When Nanami's eyes lit at the idea, the guard grinned slightly at her approval.  "Get there as fast as you can, Fuji… yes, I owe you one, I know.  See you in a few."

        Replacing the phone in its cradle by his hip, Jackson's eyes fell repentantly on Ayumi's perplexed ones.  "Ayumi-san, I'm so sorry about all this. Please let me take you and Nanami-san home," he said, hoping to make amends.  "I'm partly to blame for all this… let me make it up to you."

        Nanami looked down at her watch.  "That would be so awesome right now, since we really don't have the luxury of walking back to the house."

        The guard glanced at the spectating Sayuri.  "Um… would it be too much to ask you to come as well, Sayuri-san?" Jackson petered out, his bass timbre almost bleating.  When she mutely agreed, Jackson voiced his thanks before reaching down to take the plastic bag of broken glass and throwing it in the nearest trash can.  Giving their goodbyes to Ayako, the guard led the ladies across the street to where he parked his vehicle.

****************************************************

        Cold fingers grazed against alabaster skin that prompted a gooseflesh response all over her.  

        "I'm sorry that it's so cold in here.  If it's any consolation to you, I'm cold, too."

        She smiled.

        "I'm okay."

        Chuckle.

        "That's good to know."  

        Pause.

        "All right... this is going to sting, Nakamichi-dono."

        Several seconds.

        "I am prepared."

        Needles touching bone.

        Grimace.

        "I'm sorry..."

        Concentration. 

        Yoshikawa quickly set the microcurrent and switched the control box on, black and red leads hooked onto the needles supplying a weak electric current to the periosteum of her fractured clavicle.  His watchful eyes read the discomfort in her face.  "It won't be too long now," he assured.

        "Thank you... how long do I have?"  
        "Four minutes."

        Reiko closed her eyes to concentrate on the odd sensation in her shoulder.  Odd as it was, it was painful nonetheless.  "M-may I listen to music?"  
        The lab coordinator felt a little silly for not thinking to offer her the simple luxury.  "Sure, what would you like to listen to?"  
        Her eyes opened.  "The piano."

        Yoshikawa grinned.  "Piano coming right up."

        In a few seconds, the soft notes of a piano echoed throughout the treatment room, the lab coordinator pleased at the calm, relaxed appearance of her brow.  He watched the current needle hold constantly at the setting, glancing at the LCD screen of the control box to look at the timer.  When he returned his gaze at his patient, he noticed the fingers that rested atop her hospital robed abdomen moved in unison to the notes that flooded the room, her eyes closed in deep concentration.  Minutes passed by and his observant eyes took in what he saw.  Whether it was because of the microcurrent or not, an idea stirred in the lab coordinator's head that sparked a question.

        "Nakamichi-dono?"

        Her eyes opened attentively, fingers never ceasing movement.  "Yes?"  
        "Did you feel any difference in your pain level after we took the needles out of you this morning?"  
        Sharp gray orbs focused at the ceiling tiles above as she thought of her answer.  "I am able to tolerate it much better, I suppose the pain has somewhat abated.  Why?"

        Yoshikawa shrugged.  "I don't know... it's just... looking at your fingers move to the music like that, I just thought it would be a shame not to be able to play piano for awhile.  I was told you play quite skillfully. I can only imagine how much pain you'd be in."  
        End of piece.

        When the current was shut off and the needles were taken out, Yoshikawa had Reiko apply pressure to the puncture points with two cotton balls dipped in antibiotics.  He moved to help her sit up but she politely refused, wanting to see how well she could do it on her own.  Her movements were a tad slower than when she wasn't injured, and her face didn't show any signs of severe pain.  The lab coordinator stood back in silent admiration; here was a person who had everything material, lost what counted the most, overcome biological struggles and took physical risks only to fulfill a promise.  A small voice in his mind chided him for having his thoughts wander to lofty and deferential heights over one sit-up, but the facts remained as irrefutable as they were and he had nothing but respect for them.  

        "Are you tired?" he asked as he wheeled the metal cart up against the wall.  

        "Not as much as I thought I would be," she answered with a surprised chuckle.  Getting off the treatment table, she padded across the room to retrieve the terry cloth robe that hung behind the door, eager for the warmth it could give her.  After getting her good arm through one sleeve, she managed to get the other through with nothing more than a grimace across her pretty face.  Yoshikawa was again impressed.

        "Wow, how did you get that on without any help?"

        Reiko beamed at the lab coordinator, wriggling her fingers as if to regain voluntary movement.

        "Nakamichi-dono, I was wondering... if you'd be up for another test."

        The gray sparkle in her eyes conveyed all the inquiry Yoshikawa expected.  

        "It's more of a hand-eye coordination test, if you will.  We don't have to do it if it puts you in pain."

        Looking down at her left shoulder, she smiled.  "I guess we will never know unless we try."

        Yoshikawa's face lit up with laughter.  "You make my job so easy for me," he commented, opening the door and ushering her out to the hall where Miller waited for them.  

****************************************************

        Coach Miwa was surprised to see Miyagi walk through his office door.  Asking him if there was a reunion, Miyagi turned up a questioning brow as he took a seat by his former coach's desk.

        "Well, Mitsui-kun is out on the court with Sakuragi-kun as we speak."

        "Any reason?"

        "Don't really know, except that he was looking for our lanky redhead," Coach Miwa answered as he leaned back in his seat.  "I don't know what it is with that boy..."

        "Which one?"  
        "Sakuragi-kun."

        "Why?"

        The coach shrugged.  "Well, one minute he's whining how he has to hurry out of the showers for a date after practice this morning, and the next he's hustling me to let him into the gym.  It makes me wonder if he even attended his classes today."  
        Miyagi cocked a grin as he stood up.  "Well, why don't we find out?"

        Former player followed coach out into the hallway that led to the main gym, stunned to find out that the entrance wasn't the only thing they walked into.  Mitsui and Sakuragi were both in the middle of the court, their bodies postured into fighting stances, voices raised beyond amiable conversation, fists shaking with hissed threats.  Miyagi and Coach Miwa stopped in their tracks.  

        "You  know nothing!" bellowed Sakuragi, his face flushing the same hue as his hair.  "And why the hell would she talk to you?!  It's not even your fucking business!"

        "Would you take your head out of your sorry ass for just one fucking minute and listen to me?!  She doesn't understand why you're twisting your balls over here, hiding like some weak-nut brat who can't even fucking confront her!" retorted Mitsui.

        "Mitsui, you shut the fuck up _right now_!!" the redhead growled, fists ready to fly at any second.  "You don't know what you're talking about!  You weren't there!  You didn't see how forward that damn waiter was with her, and not one objection came out of her mouth!"

        "Then why didn't you tell her that?!  You could've at least gotten an explanation out of her, but no!  You had to do this the infantile chicken shit way!  Can't you see you're hurting her?"  
        Sakuragi clenched his jaws in restrained fury, his fists balled impossibly tight that his knuckles shone white under the halogen lights of the main gym.  "What about _me_, huh?  What about my feelings?!  It's already bad enough that every other guy out there looks at her like she's a piece of meat, and it's even worse when she's too friendly with a man I don't even know!" he gravelly lashed out, his voice hoarse and shaking. 

        Mitsui was the first to hold his tongue.  Being in love himself, he understood jealousy and possession well.  Sakuragi only wanted Haruko's affections to be directed to him, to be the only man to receive such affections.  Mitsui had been on that same boat before, and it was unsettling that Sakuragi can't get himself off his high horse to step out and talk to her.  Out on the east lawn of the school grounds was a young woman desperately wanting to give him explication and he was being a two-year-old about it, not knowing that he was making a mountain out of an ant hill, especially with the reason Haruko gave Mitsui.  // _So__ let's handle this the two-year-old way... _//

        "Listen, you gangly fucker, would it make you feel better if you took a swing at me?" Mitsui drawled, his stance relaxing into an erect position and his voice at an almost taunting decibel.  

        Sakuragi frowned.  Regardless of how angry and frustrated he was, he had to think twice before raising a fist against a friend.  "Shit, Mitchy!  This is none of your business, leave me the fuck alone!" he whined, long arms resignedly thrown in the air in exasperation.  

        "And how would a brat like you know what my business is?!  I wasn't here to see you because of your pathetic communication problems with your girlfriend, but through some stroke of luck I nearly tripped over her bent and crying frame of a person, bawling over someone who clearly doesn't deserve her tears because of his utter lameness!"

        Gritting his teeth, Sakuragi's battered pride couldn't take any more.  "All right, that's it!  You asked for it!" he yelled as he charged at his former teammate.  The sight made Miyagi spring to his feet, appearing in a blink of an eye between the redhead and Mitsui, taking all the strength he had to push Sakuragi back from attacking the shooting guard.  

        "Sakuragi, get a hold of yourself!" he tried to reason, inwardly sighing in relief when he saw Coach Miwa hold the tall center back.  Well, _attempted _would be a better word, for the tall center towered over both peacemakers.    
        "Shut up!  Let me go!" snarled the redhead, his hands clawing the air in the hopes of getting an inch closer to Mitsui.  

        "That's right, Miyagi.  Listen to him.  Let him go."

        Miyagi turned his head to shoot Mitsui an incredulous gaze while pushing against Sakuragi with all his might.  "Fuck, Mitchy!  Are you crazy?!  Get out of here before he kills you!"  Even Sakuragi calmed himself somewhat at the command, Coach Miwa seemingly the only one remaining true to his resolve.  Mitsui deliberately pushed the gaping Miyagi, and much to the shorter man's dismay, Mitsui replaced his position in front of the redhead, now standing a mere arm's length away from Sakuragi.  

        Coach Miwa was not amused.  "Mitsui, what do you intend to prove?" 

        Mitsui met the redhead's hard gaze dead on.  "Yes, _what_ indeed... you really want to know why I came here, Sakuragi?  I came here because I wanted to thank you for caring enough about me to leave close to a _hundred_ messages on my answering machine.  I won't even count the number of emails or the voice messages on my cell.  Man, I'm _so_ touched!  I never thought that my ass deserved that much attention.  So I came to give it as an offering for that glorified beating you so impatiently want to give me..."  Mitsui paused to smirk as he looked down the floor then back again at Sakuragi.  "Nearly one hundred fucking messages!  What devotion, Sakuragi!  And I'm not even your girlfriend!"

        Sakuragi felt a string inside him being plucked mercilessly, reverberating a painful chord within him.  Mitsui could really put things in perspective in the most painful of ways.  And what was more painful was the frustrating recognition that he was right.  "Damn you," he gnashed. 

        "Yes, damn me!  In fact, let's damn it all!  Damn me, damn the waiter here, damn this basketball court and damn _her_—"

        "Shut your shit hole, Mitchy!  Where the hell do you get off condemning her?" 

        Mitsui coolly shrugged.  "Hell, you're doing it, that must mean she's nothing more than a hill of beans to you—"

        Whack!

        Coach Miwa and Miyagi's jaws went slack at the punch that was surprisingly held back for the time it was, Mitsui staggering a little from the hit.  A few more seconds and he was standing erect once more to meet the redhead's wide eyes, as if the blood that seeped from his cut lip was nothing.  His recovery from the impact was alarming; Sakuragi was no weakling.  The speechless center dropped his gaze to his offending fist, not believing the rage he left uncontrolled against Mitsui's face.  Instead of the scowl he expected him to wear on his bruised face, Mitsui was actually grinning.

        "There... do you feel better now?" he asked, blotting the blood from his lower lip with the collar of his shirt, the bright red stain a stark contrast against its whiteness.  

        Sakuragi could only shake his head, his tongue failing him.  "Mitchy... I—I..."

        A chuckle. 

        "So this means we're even now, right?" he asked, Mitsui's brow arching slightly at the meaning behind the simply inquiry.

        After a long pause, Sakuragi finally accepted the small gift of understanding that Mitsui offered without so much as a flinch against his pulverizing fist.  For someone who was so eager to help his friend find the lost love of his life, he made him see in return just how pathetic his show of anger was toward Haruko, the importance of patience and reasoning the take home lesson in this difficult course called love.  Sakuragi yielded to the cunning subtlety of Mitsui's wisdom.  He, of all his friends, knew more about love and loss and everything about it. 

        "Mitchy, I—"

        "You didn't answer the question, Sakuragi.  Are we even now?" Mitsui repeated.  

        The redhead felt his anger extinguish when he realized that Mitsui was not only trying to help him understand, he was also saving his ego.  "Yeah, man.  We're even now."  

        After moments of awkward silence, Mitsui extended his hand.  "No hard feelings?"

        Sakuragi tried to clench the guilt in his jaws and shook his former teammate's hand with a sure grip.  "No hard feelings... I'm... I'm  sorry."

        All this time, Miyagi and Coach Miwa remained flabbergasted on the side at how quickly the violence died down to such display of friendship.  Scratching the back of his head, Miyagi looked to his former coach for an answer and was only given a shrug of uncertainty.  What was it about the Shohoku boys that made them act like brats one minute, grown-ups the next?  

        "I'm so sorry, guys.  I'm a total ass."

        "We know," chimed Mitsui, his comment only making the redhead sigh.  

        "God, what do I do?  She must totally hate me..."  

        Miyagi smirked.  "She'll get over it.  We all do."

        Sakuragi didn't know where to start.  "... Where could she be now?"

        "East lawn, by the fine arts building.  If you hurry, she just might still be there."

        With grateful eyes, Sakuragi's face beamed unexpectedly.  "Thanks, Mitchy.  I owe you," he said when he broke into a run for the gym doors.  

****************************************************

        With hurried but steady steps, Jackson and Ayumi walked through the service entrance of the banquet hall with two tiers each of chocolate cake which they rushed to make.  The servers' voices collectively echoed in relief at the sight of Ayumi and her large companion, their arms eager to help them both set the cakes down on the prep table with care.  

        "Ayumi-san, what happened to your hand?" questioned a female server, her eyes widened in surprise.

        "Oh, don't worry about it, it's nothing... have they finished eating?" Ayumi asked, breathless.

        "About fifteen minutes ago, and they're getting impatient," answered one of the servers who carted a stack of dessert plates onto the table.  "They keep craning their heads at us with those pleading eyes," he added, his face grimacing.  

        "Then there's not a moment to lose," replied Ayumi, her hands reaching for the plates and lining them in rows.  After giving the servers a few more instructions, the kitchen immediately bustled with activity, and the brawny guard suddenly felt out of place in the midst of clanging cutlery and clinking of porcelain teacups against plates.  He often saw this kind of hustle in Yoshi's kitchen, but he rarely set foot in it, knowing he would more likely be a hindrance than help.  Stepping  back to lean against the wall by the entrance, his eyes followed the servers' movements like drones in a busy beehive, and in the center of it all stood Ayumi's petite frame, her bandaged hand's grip on the cake knife sure and steady despite her unfortunate injury.  

        Jackson's observant gaze studied the hand that held the knife, thinking back to the moment when he dressed her wounds at her niece's house.  He had missed a few pieces of glass from his first inspection, and when she was told to brace herself for the sting of the alcohol, she bit her lower lip and bravely watched in silence as he disinfected the cuts.  After the bandage was applied, she tried to pick a spatula off the counter and was, to say the least, dismayed when she couldn't even grip the handle without letting out a whimper.  So when he picked it up for her and asked for her instructions, he was a bit amused to see her pink lips part slightly in amazement.  When she got over her initial shock the instructions flowed out of her mouth easily, the ingredients accurately measured and carefully added into the mixing bowl, her good hand helping to toss some of it in.  If Jackson's dexterity with the icing bags didn't completely bowl her over, his creativity did.  Without even so much as a hint of how to start decorating the cakes, the guard worked on the cakes' surface with complete autonomy, only looking up now and then at Ayumi for approval that came in the form of speechless nods as he continued and finally finished.  She looked like she was about to cry at the amazing handiwork, and had he another handkerchief on him he would've offered it.  Thank God she was able to contain herself.  To Jackson it was something he had seen Yoshi do on more than one occasion even before he retired and started his restaurant in Japan.  It was merely playing monkey see, monkey do with the guard.  

        With this memory playing through his mind, his eyes crept from her hand to her toned arm and finally up to her face, her profile in mechanized concentration, each slice of the cake earning every ounce of effort.  There it is again, he thought, that little habit of her lower lip finding itself entrapped between her teeth.  Jackson blinked before resting his gaze once more on her bandaged hand.  The top layers of the bandage betrayed a blotted tinge of red, confirming the guard's suspicions.  

        "Ayumi-san," his baritone voice called out, "perhaps you should let me do that—"

        A shake of her head immediately cut him off.  "It's okay, Jackson-san.  You've done so much for me already, I can't let you do everything for me, now can I?" she said, her lips curling into a smile.  

        Despite his inclination to object, Jackson chose not to prod her further.  It took all her concentration to slice the cake, and even more for her not to show her agony.  Ayumi pushed so hard and held her composure so well while bearing all the nervousness and pain underneath her focused exterior.  She immediately reminded the guard of someone back at the lab.  

****************************************************

        She was surprised to be driven back to the house with Yoshikawa alongside her fiddling with the heart monitor that Miller previously had in his keep.  Asking her if the pads adhered to her chest felt uncomfortable, Reiko gently shook her head.  Watching the uniform pattern of her heartbeat across the small monitor's screen, the lab coordinator heaved a sigh of satisfaction.  In a short while they found themselves in the music room, Reiko seated on the bench behind the grand piano with her pet by her seat, Yoshikawa enlisting the help of Miller and Sakai with several pieces of recording equipment and a laptop.  

        "Okay," the short man affirmed after hooking a mess of wires to the laptop.  "Nakamichi-dono, this test is fairly simple but taxing with your injury.  When you got the robe on you earlier without any aid, I thought that your pain threshold may be high enough to go through this."  After pushing a few keys on the laptop, he continued.  "I saw a tape of your performance a while back, and I want to test your memory when it comes to note recollection.  All you have to do is listen to the music I play and play it back for me on the piano.  I have no doubt that you can do this, but my only concern is that it might exacerbate the pain when your arm moves internally and externally."  Yoshikawa took her nod as understanding and pushed a button on the side of the heart monitor.  

        "Ready?"  
        "Yes."

        "Here we go."

        At a push of a key, mellow notes from the laptop's speakers floated in succession throughout the music room, flats and sharps combining in harmonious progression as the melody continued to play.  Involuntarily, Reiko's eyes closed and she was lost in the series of notes that often came together in chords, punctuated with poignant crescendos and sixteenth notes that painted a heart flutter in her mind's eye.  Miller and Sakai watched in silence as she sat in full concentration to the music, all the while Yoshikawa glancing down at the heart monitor.  When the piano piece ended, he pushed a key on the laptop to stop and that was when her eyes opened once more.  

        "That was a beautiful piece, Yoshikawa-san."

        He grinned.  "It's my favorite."  Pausing to look at the monitor once more, he returned his gaze at his subject.  "Okay, your turn. Cease playing if you're in pain, even if it's just a little, okay?" reminded Yoshikawa, pushing the red record button.

        She wore a small smile and agreed.  Lifting her hands so that her fingers hovered over the keys, she took a deep breath in and struck the first few keys in the same sequence as she had heard it, and as she continued, her mind was lost in the melody as her fingers connected with the cool surface of the ivory keys.  Miller and Sakai were not as awed as the lab coordinator as they listened to her play the piece note for note, rest for rest; they had seen her do this many times before in Yoshi's restaurant.  They were still impressed nonetheless.  Yoshikawa's amazement was plastered all over his face with an enthralled grin.  Years ago when Dr. Nakamichi said his niece was a genius, he merely nodded at the statement.  It was one thing to be told and another to experience virtuosity firsthand.  When she finished, the lab coordinator couldn't help but applaud. 

        "Goodness, you sound better than the CD," he said, earning a humble laugh from his subject.  "How do you feel?"  
        "Sore," she answered, the digits of her right hand lightly touching the skin over her injured clavicle.  Her reply made Yoshikawa gasp and frown.

        "Bad girl!  I told you to stop playing at the slightest onset of pain!" he berated, hands resting on either side of him in full schoolteacher fashion.  

        Reiko tried to suppress a giggle that threatened to bubble from her throat, and had she not damaged her clavicle, she would have let her laughter out unguarded.  "I'm sorry, Yoshikawa-san.  The piece was too beautiful not to be played in its entirety."

        "But seriously, Nakamichi-dono," countered the older guard, "you might aggravate your injury."

        Her upturned lips slowly flattened out into an apologetic line.  "I know.  I just could not resist... it won't happen again."

        The lab coordinator pretended to be further disappointed.  "It better not, young lady."

        Again she smiled, and the guards were more than amused at the emotions that played across her pretty face.  Not since imparting Miller with his birthday gift did she display this good-natured exchange.  When Mitsui left her that morning, she was left to the scrutiny of the MRI from head to toe, Yoshikawa's promising prognosis of her condition made every one let their breaths go in a sigh of relief.  If the hairline fracture healed itself well, she can be back to normal and do what it was that made her happy.  And with Mitsui's presence, her recovery was well on its way.  Sakai's gaze flickered at the unfamiliar ring encircling one of her fingers, the one thing that caught his scrutiny before glancing at his watch.  Fuji had called to tell them he was on his way back to the estate, but Jackson was long overdue from his errand.  He halted his thoughts when he saw their charge get up from the bench, the dog by her feet barking excitedly.  

        "Patience, boy," she cooed before turning to the lab coordinator who was already packing up the laptop.  "Is the test over, Yoshikawa-san?"

        "Well, yes, and I don't think I want to continue any further.  At least not for a while," he said, his eyes straying to her injured shoulder.  "Nakamichi-dono, your self-discipline is something on a godlike plane... you always push yourself more than you have to."

        It took a few seconds before Reiko could acknowledge the short man with a nod, his words of praise mingling with a subtle reprimand in her ears.  "I only do as I am asked."

        Yoshikawa took the laptop bag and heaved a sigh.  "We have so much to learn from you... I fear that if I don't figure you out soon, you will have pushed yourself to limits none of us can follow."  Clasping the handle of the bag, the lab coordinator wore a worried grin.  "Please rest for today.  We'll run more imaging tests later and see how you're doing.  No exertion, okay?"

        Her eyes crinkled with a promising smile.  "Okay."

        Miller opened the front door for the short man and escorted him out to one of the cars to take him back to the lab.  As Sakai and Reiko stood by the door to see them off, the older guard stole a glance at his young charge, her grey eyes fixed at the retreating vehicle.  

        "You know, I can't help but agree with that man."

        "I agree with him, too."

        Guard and charge regarded each other, his brown gaze mixed with concern and uncertainty, her grey depths displaying insecurities even she couldn't understand.  She broke the momentary silence.  

        "Time changes everything, and everything is changing so fast and... so am I..."

        The older man's brow furrowed.  

        "... Truth be told, I am anxious, Sakai-san."

        "Of what?"  
        "...Of what is happening inside me."

        The guard didn't like her tone one bit.  It was almost as if she was helpless.  "What is it?"  
        "I do not know," she replied emptily, grey eyes fixed on the expanse of the lawn.  "I can feel it... little by little I am changing.  In one instance... the way I am able to move my left shoulder easily in such a short amount of time.  It still hurts, but I gather a fracture takes a longer time to heal and hurts worse than this, be it hairline or not."

        Sakai was at a loss for words.

        "Apart from the slight soreness in my muscles, I feel fine, and I'm thankful for that... but… this relentless, gnawing trepidation… like the burning embers of a growing flame inside me … I did not expect this feeling... to remain."

        "Is there something you fear?" asked Sakai, his comforting hand resting lightly against her good shoulder.  After some hesitation, she answered.

        "Yes... and that is what brings me to worry.  I do not know what it is I fear."  
        "That makes two of us.  We can protect you only if we knew what it is we're protecting you from."

        Reiko brought her hand to rest atop the older guard's gentle clutch.  "Long ago, Dad said that there was only so much he and Mom can protect me from... it is up to me to find the courage to face the rest."

        _Good advice_, Sakai thought, the pressure in his grip increasing for a moment before relinquishing her.  "And you have done well.  Rest assured, we will be there every step of the way."  

        Releasing a sigh, she looked up at her guard.  "I am eternally grateful for that... and yet..."  
        "Yet?"

        A long, thoughtful pause.   
        "What is it you want in life, Sakai-san?  Surely not to spend the rest of it in servitude and surveillance."

        Sakai's brows rose at the sudden question.  "Where is this coming from?"

        She looked a little embarrassed.  "Mitsui-san put to a different light many things for me last night, and I have been doing much retrospection of late... I—I just wish to know... how differently things would have been if you chose to do something else other than to serve as sentry to my family."

        A happy bark from the dog interrupted Sakai from voicing his words and their eyes followed the animal across the yard, its nose investigating the different smells of its surroundings.  He turned to look at her once more.

        "Have you not been told of how I came to work for your father?" he asked, the hand that touched her shoulder now retreating into his trouser pocket.  When she wordlessly shook her head, his gaze trailed down to the ring that wrapped around her slender finger.  "If I tell you, will you tell me how you got that lovely rock on your finger?"

        He didn't expect his proposition to produce a furious blush across her cheeks.  He let out a chuckle.  "You don't have to tell me anything then."

        She took one of her hands and placed it over her abdomen, smiling.  "I will agree to the barter if you tell me the details over lunch.  I am hungry... would that be all right, Sakai-san?" she asked, her request making the guard wonder who was master and who was servant.  

        "The more you eat, the more I'll tell you," he chimed with a grin.  

****************************************************

        A frantic search.  

        Sakuragi's chest heaved as he scanned the university's east lawn for any sight of her; there, leaning against a lone oak tree by the bench, stood Haruko to her feet, the back of her hand wiping away tears of frustration.  Eyes widening at his discovery, the redhead broke into a desperate run.

        Taking a deep breath, the poor girl didn't realize that she was being pursued by his errant boyfriend at such a speed, that when she turned to see what was approaching towards her, panic overcame her.  With a stifled cry of fright, her legs propelled her to flee, much to her boyfriend's surprise.  

        "Haruko, wait!  What are you doing?!"

        Not even a whole minute ago she had promised herself she wouldn't cry anymore, and there she ran with her eyes welling up with tears she didn't want to come.  For the first time, she was actually afraid that Sakuragi had snapped and was out to get her, or perhaps _get back _at her physically.  She didn't know what to think anymore as she took flight.  All she knew was she didn't want to feel this way.  Much to her shock, Sakuragi was almost right next to her in her sprint, and before she could even voice any protestation, he had already clamped his large hand around her slender arm.  Letting out a gasp, she felt him jerk her towards him, effectively stopping her in her tracks and sending her crashing into his muscled chest.  It had been years since Haruko played tag, and being held captive in the arms of another after being tagged was nothing near to the rules of the game as she remembered it.  The poor girl could only whimper in defeat.  

        "Why'd you run away?" Sakuragi asked breathlessly, his lungs burning for oxygen.  

        "Let me go!" she spat as she tried to wriggle from his firmly fixed grip, her chest heaving for air as well.

        "Never!"

        Haruko's head whipped up to look at her towering captor, fresh tears spilling from the corners of her eyes in silence.  Sakuragi had never shown this possessive anger before in all the years they've been together, and she stilled when his grip on her lightened to a touch that registered as a caress to her senses.  His eyes were full of emotion. 

        "I – I can't let you go, Haruko... I don't want to..." his quivering voice said, his tone carrying such desperation that Haruko could only wait for the words to fall from his mouth.  Sakuragi's fingers found themselves upon her flustered face, wiping the tears that slid down her cheeks.  

        "I was an ass this morning, that much I admit... I didn't mean to ignore you.  It's just... you're really pretty and I know for a fact that plenty of guys would kill to get someone like you for a girlfriend, and... and that waiter giving you a kiss made me so jealous that I had to get away from both of you before I blew up..." 

        Haruko could see how hard it was for Sakuragi to say what he just said, and his eyes had never been more pleading than they were at that moment.  

        "I'm... I'm sorry.  I just couldn't understand... why you let him get that personal with you," he ended, his gaze falling to the ground.  

        Haruko sniffled.  "I wanted to tell you, but you left before I could even explain everything.  Sakuragi, the only reason why I let him kiss me on the cheek was because..." her voice petered out for a moment of embarrassment.  "Because he's a guy you won't ever have to be jealous of."

        Sakuragi frowned.  "That... that doesn't make any sense to me.  What guy in his right mind wouldn't be steaming mad at another guy smacking his choppers on the girl he loves?" he asked, his long arm snaking arm Haruko's waist as if to stake his claim.

        Haruko looked at him with a humiliated gaze.  "He's gay."

        The redhead blinked at her words before his mouth gaped open.  

        "That's what I wanted to tell you earlier, right after he kissed me..."

        Sakuragi felt like he just got hit with a ton of bricks, suddenly remembering that once-over look the waiter gave him, a look that made his skin crawl in disgust when he realized that he was being checked out.  He was jealous of a gay guy!  How ridiculous!

        "God, why didn't you tell me!?"  
        "I _tried_!  But I couldn't walk or run fast enough after you, I don't have long legs like you!" she cried, tears of release now overflowing fast from her eyes.  Her boyfriend picked up the flash of humiliation in them, and quickly enveloped her in a breathtaking embrace.  

        "I'm sorry... I'm so very sorry for being a complete idiot..."

        Haruko heaved a happy sigh through her tears as her arms wrapped around him.  "If you want me to forgive you for loving me, I won't.  But," she paused in an attempt to squeeze her arms around him further, "I understand where you're coming from, I just wish you gave me a little more time to explain."

        "I know... and I apologize for that."  Sakuragi's hand gently clasped around her neck and pressed her into him impossibly closer.  "I still don't get why you act like it's so impossible for a guy, even a _gay _guy to want to kiss a beautiful girl like yourself," he mumbled in her hair.  Pushing slightly away from the redhead, she inclined her head and shot him a sheepish glance.

        "It's true that he and I used to date, but it was on the third date that he told me he couldn't continue the relationship because he had an epiphany one night and discovered he was gay," she said, her voice petering out in the end.  "I'm not extremely proud of the fact that I dated a guy who turned gay after going out with me.  Do you know how embarrassing that is for me?"

        Sakuragi finally understood where she was coming from.  He only frowned at the fact that the guy's change in sexuality made her feel inadequate somehow.  "I never _ever_ want you to feel unwanted.  It wasn't your fault he was gay, Haruko.  In fact, I'm a little disappointed he's not straight.  I would've really enjoyed beating the shit out of him for getting friendly with you, but I don't think I can bring myself to hurt a flimsy fairy."

        "You wouldn't have had to, because if he was straight, things between us may be a lot different from what they are now."

        Shock.

        "You mean to tell me you'd still be with him?"

        A mischievous shrug.

        "Well, he _is_ an extremely good shopper with a sharp eye for fashion and sales."

        Deep frown. 

        "God, I hope you're just teasing 'cause my heart's about to rip in two."

        Touché.

        "Gotcha!  Even if he was straight, it would've never worked out... I never felt the same spark I feel with you."  
        Sakuragi tightened his clutch around her further after a moment of silence, earnest eyes boring through hers.  To him, Haruko was the only one out of all his friends who believed in him and his ability from the start, and she was a constant beacon of inspiration for him to further better himself.  His efforts, his determination, his stamina, his enthusiasm for the sport of basketball all stemmed and fed off her encouragement, and the only way he knew how to repay her constant support was the only thing he could think to give her.  Devotion.

        "Sakuragi... the likelihood of it is slim, but out of curiosity... would you have let me go if I asked you to?"

        The redhead's lips drew to a firm thoughtful line.  "If that was what you really wanted... but... I know that the moment I let that happen, I will fall apart."

        Haruko's palm reached up to caress his cheek and his immediate reaction was to lean into her touch.  "If you behave, it doesn't have to happen."

        He sighed contentedly, admiring her patience and understanding nature.  "You make me so happy, Haruko... I... I..."

        The hand that touched his cheek now reached for his neck and gently tugged down for him to bend closer to her, and standing tiptoe she met his motion with a kiss, completely rendering the tall center speechless.  His breath taken away, she relinquished him after a few seconds.

        "I know," she whispered.  "I love you, too."

****************************************************

Jackson, Fuji and Miller all found Sakai and their charge sitting side by side on a bench out on the deck, a small folding table beside them with mugs that were filled with steaming hot chocolate before, now empty as Reiko continued to listen to Sakai's story.  The guard stopped when he saw his colleagues, and pretty soon the rest gathered round to listen to the older guard recount how he came to work for the Nakamichi family.  

        Before working for a defense contractor, Sakai was in the military, serving as chief corps engineer.  To answer Reiko's previous question, he timidly admitted that he wanted to spend his days running a small bookstore, just as his father and grandfather had done.  When Sakai's military service was over, he returned to his family's bookstore still in military garb, and instead of a happy homecoming, he was greeted with news of his father passing away that morning.  His mother begged for him to sell the bookstore and go with her to his grandfather's estate but he refused.  He chose to run the bookstore himself.  A few weeks later, he met Reiko's father who happened to stop by the bookstore in search of a book he wanted his children to read.  He would not see Nakamichi again for another year, at a time when Sakai was down and out of his luck.  His father left debts he couldn't repay, and the bookstore could barely sustain itself, little less make any profit.  It was Reiko's father who got him the job at the defense contracting company with whom the Nakamichi family had business dealings.  

        Years passed and Sakai slowly found desk work sluggish and tiresome.  Still young at the time, his youthful heart begged to answer the call of adventure, or something that required more interaction with people beyond the confines of a desk.  Having made enough money to pay back his father's debts, he wrote his resignation letter to the company but was stopped short of delivering it when he once again ran into Reiko's father and the entire Nakamichi family.  They walked into his bookstore and bought a number of books, his sales that day far greater than any other holiday of the year.  After introductions, Nakamichi talked to him aside, learning of Sakai's situation and offering him a job with a salary too good to be refused.  The benefits were excellent, he would get to travel and his task seemed fairly easy at the time.  All he had to do was look after a precocious little girl and travel with her to her tutors' homes.  After giving a day's worth of consideration, Sakai delivered his letter of resignation and took the job Nakamichi offered him, leaving the bookstore to his mother's keep.

        "It was then I met Miller and Fuji's fathers, they kind of showed me the ropes… they were easy enough to learn.  And Nakamichi-dono, you were such a well-behaved child, I couldn't see any reason past the fact that you belonged to a rich family why my services were really needed.  But when I learned that your intelligence far exceeded my superiors with whom I worked with in the military, I finally realized why your father wanted your well-being safeguarded."

        A hush befell them as Reiko's eyes drifted away to gaze at the serene lake by the restaurant.  "He was always telling me to watch my step and be careful."  Her hands grazed her arms to cross over her chest in an attempt to block the chill of the late autumn breeze.  "He always told me he loved me."

        Jackson cast a sad look at their charge, grateful that her head was turned so she couldn't see the pity in his eyes.  Sakai took off his suit coat and draped it over their charge's shoulders, Reiko a little startled yet thankful for the kind gesture.  The younger guards looked at Sakai who merely gave them a curt smile before looking out the horizon, knowing well that at that moment, she was silently reaching into the recesses of her memory for the days when she had the warm love of her family.  A long, respectful pause followed, not one of them stirred to say a word.  

        "Thank you for sharing all this with me, Sakai-san," she finally said, still looking at the lake.  "And know that I am extremely fortunate and forever grateful for having you, Mr. Jackson, Mr. Miller and Fuji-san in my family's service."

****************************************************

        The majority of the days that followed were spent at the laboratory where she underwent more imaging and blood tests, mental evaluations and the like.  Mitsui was always punctual and present every time Yoshikawa and the others finished assessing her progress, and he was always rewarded with that smile and sparkle in her eyes that never failed to take his breath away.  

        // _It's worth losing my job over. _// 

        Mitsui had taken more days than he was given off for all the 'good work' he had done for the company, and he knew that missing work regardless of his stellar efforts prior to finding Reiko could just as easily be forgotten as the office memo from two weeks ago.  As long as he could see Reiko, hear her voice and touch the softness of her skin, it mattered not if he lost his job nor had a hefty credit card bill to pay off.  Nothing in this lifetime or the next would ever be more valuable than the time he could spend with her.  

        When something so precious is taken away from a person, time runs slow and life is painfully prosaic; to have a chance in getting in all back would hopelessly drive any one to madness.  Mitsui ruminated on this thought as he watched the lab coats hover over the wall monitors.

        Yoshikawa had long given up on explaining Reiko's incredible recovery as far as her fractured clavicle was concerned.  Her blood tests were normal, and the CT and MRI scans of her brain revealed a back-to-normal sized hypothalamus, much to everyone's relief.  Her shoulder was back to full range of motion, and the way she moved it gave no indication that she had even injured it.  When Yoshikawa saw her leaning her weight against her injured shoulder, he freed her from the restraint that he had imposed on her to wear.  She was glad, to say the least, that her sessions in the immersion chamber were much less restricted without the brace, and she swam in the tank like a playful dolphin.  

        Or in Mitsui's eyes, a gorgeous mermaid.

        He watched her every move in the tank, the acknowledging nods to Yoshikawa and the others as they took readings.  He remembered her reaction when she saw him after he returned to her house from his little tussle with Sakuragi, and the concern and gentleness of her touch against his face made the ache on his jaw and lip a mere scratch.  Reiko nursed the cut in his lip, placed a few cubes of ice on a table napkin and held it against the bruise on his skin.  He tried to downplay it all, saying it wasn't anything to fuss over, but he secretly loved every moment of attention.  Maybe he should let Sakuragi sucker punch him more often?  Mitsui grinned at the thought.  He was reduced to a simpering addict when it came to Reiko's affection.  His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the commotion from the lab coordinator's general direction.

        Mumbles of disapproval erupted from the lab coats huddled around Yoshikawa and the wall monitors before them, their heads shaking and fingers pointing at the declining exponential graphs.  

        "What the heck happened?"

        "It's like we're back to square one!"

        "Is the substrate concentration too dilute?"

        "These numbers aren't anywhere close to where we were two years ago.  Where did we go wrong?"

        A pause.

        "Nowhere."

        All eyes turned to Yoshikawa, his gaze fixed at the screen monitoring Reiko's vitals.  "Everything is right.  The water temperature is perfect, the concentration is correct, and the current setting is where it needs to be.  These are the only variables we can control.  The rest is out of our hands."

        "So what do we do now?  Before she broke down, we were at ninety-eight percent efficacy rating… it took us over two years to get to where she was then, and now—"

        Yoshikawa turned around to face his colleagues.  "Before you panic, keep in mind that we wouldn't have gotten the current or substrate mix right if it weren't for all the hours Nakamichi-dono banked into the chamber.  We have done our part.  She can and will do hers but she's not completely a hundred percent yet—"

        "Do we really have to worry all that much?  I mean, we're not in a big rush to do this, are we?"  
        All the lab coats paused once more to think before replying, Yoshikawa looking past their shoulders to steal a glance at the floating subject in the tank.  

        "No… no rush in particular…" the short man said, his eyes softening at the questioning smile Reiko beamed at him through the acrylic chamber.  "But… when you are so close to achieving a better quality of life for someone, wouldn't you want her to have it as soon as possible?"  

        Yoshikawa's words were enough to sway the rest in silent acquiescence.  The lab coordinator's hand reached for the back of his head in thought.  "Look… we all know she's pretty much healed, and although we can't explain _how_ that happened, we know for sure she's healed enough to lean her weight against her shoulder."

        A round of nods.

        Idea.

        "Okay, how about this… let's get her out of the tank and see just how far she can go physically with her shoulder.  I have a feeling she can give us enough body heat to work with as far as numbers are concerned, _if_ we can get her heart rate up.  We'll start low and go slow, and we're going to need the DJ's help on this one.  She's going to need her strength, so make a nutritional list of foods she needs to eat before the exercise and after the immersion chamber.  We're going to have to leave those electrodes on her so we can monitor her vitals, and we need to note every condition and situation she's in that goes with any change in heart rate or pressure, and I mean _every_ condition.  Inform Jackson and the others, they're going to have to continue monitoring her for us when she's at home."

        "Yes, sir."

        "Oh, and one more thing.  I need all of you to give me the results of the sessions with the highest toxin yields and the conditions she was in before, during and after the leech process.  Let's see if we can't regain our ground."

        When the lab coats dispersed, Yoshikawa found Mitsui staring at him from the back of the room, his eyes full of questions he wasn't yet prepared to answer.  Several seconds passed and the bespectacled man smiled, putting one foot forward and then the other, slowly gaining speed to approach Mitsui.  How could he have forgotten that in front of him stood the man that was the ace up his sleeve in this game of chance?  The smile on his meek face was unwavering as he stretched out his hand for the former shooting guard to shake.  In the few minutes to come, speculations were voiced, propositions were made, and agreements and gratitude expressed as the guards pulled their floating charge out of the immersion chamber. 

****************************************************

        Ayako sat in the living room of the Miyagi house pretending to read the fashion magazine on the coffee table, when in fact she was intently listening to the scuffle of feet and hushed whispers in the adjacent room.  It was a little surprising to her that Ryota and his family, always cheery and often enthusiastically vociferous whenever she was around, now were quiet as goldfish and were an inch away from being overly respectful towards her whenever she would visit, as if they were walking on eggshells. 

        It made no sense to her at all.  And now the words on the make-up article she was reading were nothing more than just a jumble of words in her eyes.  All her concentration poured into her sense of hearing, her ears straining to pick up the hushed tones in the next room.  All she could hear was Miyagi's tremulous whispers, his parents' inaudible mumblings and his brother's irritated voice yelling at Ryota to 'be a man'.  What was that all about?  Ayako turned the page, briefly glancing at the pictures and seeing an ad for some designer perfume, the modeling couple in the picture tangled in a languorous embrace at the legs and arms on some perfect beach with the sun setting in picturesque perfection.  A sliver of unease pierced through her as her eyes lingered to study the faces of the couple, their gazes intense upon one another.  Not too long ago Miyagi held her in the same way with his arms and eyes, and as if some wind of change suddenly blew overnight, the point guard became awkward and jumpy around her.  She couldn't recall anything she had done or said to make him behave that way, and the list of possible reasons that ran through her head ran her mentally ragged.  

        Not finding any escape from the uneasiness about her, she replaced the magazine back on the coffee table and stood to walk over to the window.  It had turned cold outside, and the leaves that fell from the trees onto Mrs. Miyagi's yard brought to mind yet another autumn season she would spend with her point guard boyfriend… with the way things were going, Ayako feared that it may be their last.  The furtive glances, the hesitation in Miyagi's voice, the jumpy reactions to her lightest touch… maybe they've been spending too much time together?  Her stomach turned at the fact.  Familiarity _does_ tend to breed contempt, and in the number of years that they've been together, it was bound to happen, and now was as good a time as any.  Fighting to keep the tears at bay, she bit her lip and took a deep breath in. 

        She had to leave.

        Taking her jacket and purse, she excused herself loudly and called out for Miyagi, the clumsy scurrying of her boyfriend to open the sliding doors only confirming Ryota's uneasiness around her.  It looked as if he was holding his breath, and the look of apprehension in his eyes made tears well up in her eyes.  

        "I'm sorry to bother you," Ayako said, mentally kicking herself for sounding too distant, "but I have to go home.  I just remembered that I have to help out at home with the cooking tonight."  

        "Oh… well, let me walk you home then," he answered as he moved towards the front door.  

        "There's no need, Ryota… I – I have to get some ingredients for dinner anyway.  It seems that you guys are talking some important things over, so I'll just be on my way."

"But I always walk you home."

        Ayako beat him to the door where her shoes were neatly put away, careful to turn around to put them on before reaching for the doorknob.  _Don't let him see you cry…_ "It's okay.  But I really have to go now."

        Miyagi easily detected her avoidance and caught her arm just as she was about to cross the threshold.  When she turned to meet his gaze, he was startled with the sensation of liquid splashing against his fingers, the storm in Ayako's eyes finally breaking.

        "Aya-chan?"

        "Ryota, I have to go now!" she persisted, wresting away from the point guard's grip and taking off into a sprint through the gate and onto the street.  Miyagi was so speechlessly rooted by the door that he didn't hear his family walk up behind him.  

        "Ryota, where is Aya-chan?" asked Mrs. Miyagi, the signature crinkle on her forehead showing concern.  

        His brother's eyes squinted to follow the figure darting away from their house and across the street.  "Wait, that's Aya-chan!  Why is she running away like that?"

        Mr. Miyagi followed his eldest son's gaze, and Mrs. Miyagi shook Ryota's shoulder to try and snap him out of it.

        "Ryota, what happened?  What did you tell her?  Say something!"

        When the point guard finally came to his senses, his whole family looked at him expectantly, if not irritatingly.  Miyagi shook his head slowly and directed his gaze to the floor.  "I--I just offered to take her home… I don't know why… but she was crying—"

        "Crying?!" exclaimed his brother, his arms nearly flailing at him.  "You probably scared her off, Ryota!  God, what are you doing, Ryota?  This is _so not_ what you want to happen!"

        Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Miyagi had to put their two cents in, but at that point their youngest son could no longer hear their coaxing, for the sound of his breaking heart pounding in his ears was all he could hear and feel.  

****************************************************

        She saw her running through the intersection in the corner of her eye.  When Ayako turned her head at the sound of her name, she slowed her pace to a standstill and allowed Haruko to approach her.  

        "Ayako-senpai, are you all right?"

        Ayako was so touched by her concern that she could only nod and cry in response.  

        "Do you want to talk about it?"

        Drizzle.

        "Oh no, it's about to pour!  Here, share my umbrella with me and we can go to the teahouse around the corner.  Would that be okay?"

        She really didn't have much of a choice.  Her house was several more blocks down the opposite way, which would mean that she would have to pass by the Miyagi residence.  She didn't want that option.  Ayako quietly walked to Haruko's side under the refuge of the umbrella, which was surprisingly big enough to easily shield two people from the rain.  The image of Sakuragi chatting and walking alongside of Haruko made her realize that this might well be why she had an umbrella of such immense size, the same image sadly bringing the memory of Miyagi drifting in awkward silence away to mind and more tears of confusion to her burning eyes.  

        Despite Haruko's soft cooing, her words of consolation could not reach Ayako's heart, the rain now beating harshly against the material of the umbrella, making her clutch tightly at her jacket until they reached the teahouse.  Once inside, they were happily greeted by none other than the redhead himself, whose smile instantly disappeared at the sight of Ayako's tear-streaked face.

****************************************************

        Unloading the audio equipment from his vehicle, Yohei had one last subwoofer to go when he got a call from an unfamiliar number.  Pausing to slide the woofer aside, the DJ was glad to catch his breath and answered the phone.

        "Hello?"

        "Yes, may I speak to Yohei-san please?"  
        Recognition.

        "Yoshikawa-san?"  
        "At your service."

        Grin.

        "What's up?"

        "How is your schedule looking tonight?  I was wondering if we could avail of your musical services once more."

        A glance at the watch.

        Uncertainty.

        "Well… what time do you need me there?"

        "Preferably before nine this evening… have you already made plans?"  
        "Um… kinda sorta."

        A pause.

        "Perhaps I can make it worth your while?"

        Laughter.

        "I very well know that you can make it worth my while, I have no doubt about that.  It's just… I just got off an afternoon mix session and I haven't slept a wink since the night before last.  I guess I'm just a little tired."

        _A little tired?_

"Hm… I can't control time, Yohei-san, but what I can do is help you feel more rested with just a few hours of sleep."

        Skepticism.

        "And just how do you plan on doing that?"

        "Naturally.  No pills, no injections."

        "No joke?"

        "No joke."

        A chuckle.  

        "Well, if that's the case…  I'll try everything once.  Drugs and blind dates are the exceptions, of course."

        Amusement.

        "I'll have someone pick you and your equipment up."

        "Sounds good."

        "And for tonight's experiment, we will need a good range of tempo, slow and pulse-driving and everything else in between."

        Smirk.

        "I got you covered."

        "Great.  Food will be provided, so by the time you wake up, we hope you're well-rested and hungry."

        "Sounds even better."

        Contentment.

        "We'll see you soon then."

        Hanging up and replacing his phone in his pocket, Yohei scratched his head resignedly and began moving the subwoofer to the inner wall of the van when two black vehicles abruptly stopped in front of his house.  Turning around, he watched as Jackson and Fuji stepped out of the vehicles and approached the startled DJ.  After a quiet exchange of words, the bodyguards began to load the turntables and woofers into their vehicles, instructing Yohei to get into the first car and just chill out.  He did as he was told; it wasn't like he couldn't, he was far too tired to put up any protest or offer an effective helping hand to the men.  So when the equipment was safely secured and Jackson checked up on his passenger in the front, he grinned and almost felt sorry for the DJ strapped in and passed out in his seat, not hearing the driver's side door close as Jackson keyed the engine to life.  The strong guard knew what it was like to be tired to the bone.

        When he woke from his five-hour nap, he had no recollection of how he ended up in the very comfortable bed he was in.  Blinking at his surroundings in quiet reflection, he noted the monochromatic scheme of the room, every thing from the paint to the bed sheets to the wall clock was frost white, and yet something so cool and wintry a color was also so warm and cozy to him, he didn't want to get up from the covers.  Finally sitting up and stretching his arms out, Yohei looked at his watch.

        Eight fifty-two.

        With a huff of reluctance, he rose from the bed and discovered that he was clothed in a hospital gown.  

        _Maybe I shouldn't go out like this_, he thought to himself, looking around the room for the clothes he was sure he wore before ending up in the room.  Finding them in a closet, he began to remember what happened when he came to the lab as he donned each piece of clothing on him.  The smell of alcohol, the sensation of wet cotton wiping against his skin, the pinpricks… it was then the DJ finally understood that he didn't just dream of those events, they were the agents of his perfect slumber.  

        When Yohei emerged from the room, he was greeted by Yoshikawa who stood in front of the wall of monitors next to where his turntable and headphones sat.  

        "How do you feel?" the lab coordinator asked as he flipped a sheet on his clipboard.

        "Like a hundred million yen."

        Pleased with his response, Yoshikawa let out a chuckle.  "That's good.  We took the liberty of setting up your equipment," he said with a jerk of his head at the set-up, "and don't worry, we were very careful.  I wasn't sure if you're one of those people who are very particular with the handling of their belongings."

        Yohei shook his head.  "No, I stopped caring about that, not since Sakuragi dropped and cracked one of my speakers.  It's cool."  Finding his CD case, he flipped over and perused through the compilations of songs.  "So what do you want to start out with, Yoshikawa-san?"  
        The lab coordinator was about to answer when one of the lab coats stirred from his seat behind the computer desk on the viewing deck and called out.  "Test subject now entering the exercise field."  Soon afterwards several more voiced out status reports, headsets with wire microphones close to their mouths.

        "Sym link detected… sym link is a go."

        "Camera one linked to thermal imaging."

        "Parasym link detected… parasym link is a go."

        "Pulse rate at seventy beats per minute."

"Camera two now linked to thermal imaging."

        "Oxidated toxin level at forty-six point two percent."

        "Respiration rate at eleven breaths per minute."

        "Cameras three and four on standby."

        "Body temperature at ninety-seven point nine degrees and holding."

        "All systems are go.  Awaiting confirmation."

        Yohei had heard all this familiar verbiage before, and the lab coats' coordination in calling out stats was like something a vocal orchestration to him.  He promised himself that one of these days he'd record a sound clip of them in this statistic symphony, but now he had to attend to the task he was hired to do.  Not expecting a reply from the lab coordinator, the DJ flipped to the very front of the CD case and took out one of the CDs.  

        "Something to warm-up with, I suppose?" he said to himself, surprised to hear the short man acknowledge him as he looked at the monitors on the wall.

        "As soon as the panels slide open, perform the sound check if you please, Yohei-san."

        The DJ grinned as he placed the headphones to his ears.  "Roger that."  Within seconds, music permeated through the speakers surrounding the field, the tempo he chose evenly slow with tones filling the air with rich yet muted orchestrations. 

        Yoshikawa stepped onto the raised viewing deck and stood behind the two lab coats monitoring the computers.  "All right, gentlemen," he said, patting the colleague closest to him, "here we go."  Switching his gaze to the lone figure on the plush lawn, the lab coordinator put on his headset and bent the wire mic closer to his lips.  "Nakamichi-dono, can you hear me?"  
        Her head tilted to the short man addressing him on the viewing deck of the lab in recognition.  "Yes, loud and clear."

        "Good.  Tonight is just to find out just how well you've recuperated.  But like I said, don't push it.  You won't have to worry about numbers.  Please report any discomfort, even if it's miniscule in your opinion.  No holding information back like before, okay?"

        Reiko nodded, a small and coy smile tugging at her lips at the playful admonishment in his tone.  "Yes, sir."

        "Very good.  No need to rush the next ten minutes, please go your own pace.  Begin warm-up now."

        All eyes now rested on the woman streamlined in a grey body suit, her eyes focused ahead and form unmoving for one moment, then slow, undulating animation full of concentration the next.  All four bodyguards stood patiently by the bench on the side of the lawn, admiring the quiet beauty of their charge's fluid form, her arms moving gracefully from high arcs to low dips as if they were weightless, her deliberate steps treading lightly across the lushness of the green lawn.  Every change in her motion moved to the music that filtered through the air, the crescendos and descending notes dictating the swiftness of her every turn.  

        Miller gave his colleagues a side glance and inwardly sighed.  It was agreed that he would be temporarily benched for another week until the bruising of his ribs completely healed, and he was to be the first go-to man should something go wrong on the field.  As important a job that was, he couldn't help but feel a little useless that evening; he was almost always the first guard to be on the field, and having to watch the others perform their intended duty bruised his eagerness for action just as much as their charge bruised his ribs.  _Unintentionally, of course._  Again he heaved a quiet sigh when a voice through the headset relayed the time.

        "Warm-up ending in T minus one minute."

        The older guards swung their gaze at Fuji who stepped forward.  "That's my cue, guys."  The young guard rotated his head and laterally bent it side to side, his neck popping as he did.  

        "Go easy, Fuji," warned Sakai.

        "Thirty seconds remaining."

        Fuji briefly looked back at the older guard and grinned.  "Don't worry, I won't give her anything she can't handle.  Besides, the last time I went easy on her, I got my ass knocked out."  A chuckle bubbled from Miller's throat as they watched him step onto the field.  He tossed his head back and winked before throwing in another comment. "If it's anybody who needs to go easy, it's her."

        "End of warm-up.  Begin sparring exercise."

        Acknowledging his charge with a nod, Fuji readied himself in a defensive stance, meeting the eager elfin gaze of his sparring partner.  The tempo of the music had changed and increased to a much livelier pace, the dynamic tones that scaled through the air filled the surroundings with harmonious, flowing melody.  As they squared off to each other, Fuji could have sworn he saw a tiny smile on her fair face.  He grinned.

        "Winners strike first, Nakamichi-dono."

        Reiko picked up on the challenge underlying his words and lunged forward, her fist aiming for his abdomen.  Impressed by her gusto, he deflected the blow and blocked the next flurry of punches, the guard adequately pleased with the succession of kicks and punches she threw.  

        On the sidelines, Sakai's brow knitted with slight worry.  

        Static.

        "Nakamichi-dono, are you all right?"

        Huff.

        "Yes…"

        Parry.

        "Rather occupied…"

        Drop kick.

        "… Though otherwise I am fine."

        The guards' eyes followed the motion of Reiko's body, her body twisting in the air before landing nimbly on the ground, her line of sight quickly on Fuji who now went on the offensive.  He raised the defensive bar on her, the speed and strength of his attacks made it increasingly difficult for her to evade them.  Within the next few minutes, Reiko was completely on the defensive, having to somersault several feet away from the guard to buy her some time to catch her breath.  

        The white coats on the viewing deck could hear her labored breathing through the earpieces of their headsets, their eyes vigilantly shifting from the increasing numbers on the computer monitors to their test subject struggling for air down below.  _Don't push too hard, young one._  Yoshikawa looked to his right at the panel monitoring her brain wave patterns and bit his lower lip, silently praying for all to go well that night.  Beta brain wave stimulation had reached a static plateau, and the lab coordinator wanted her out of this graphical gutter.  He frowned at the observation: she was getting desensitized to auditory stimuli.  He turned to the DJ who had one hand on his earphones, the other holding a CD and a half-eaten sandwich sticking out of his unusually large mouth.  Yoshikawa held his tongue as he mulled over the data.  Another look at the graphs painted a different picture of how the music was affecting Reiko's reaction time: whenever the music produced a blend of orchestral and synthesized tunes, the beta waves on the screen increased in frequency.  Watching as the DJ placed the CD in the carousel, the bespectacled man hoped that the next song would regenerate the same data, and if so, they would isolate the same type of music and work on entirely new variable: Mitsui.  

        Reiko wiped the sweat that collected below her chin with the back of her hand, her eyes never leaving Fuji.  She felt a pang of disappointment rip through her tired limbs; she never got distracted like this during a sparring match, and she always found an opening to Fuji's moves.  Her shoulder wasn't even bothering her.  It was as if something clouded her mind's eye to think ahead.  _What is it?  _It was understandable that she had significant circumstances that may well interfere with her reactions on the field, but she had been able to displace and tuck them away from her mind in the past.  Now, as she squared off with Fuji in the following moments, she couldn't shake the thought, the feeling of trepidation, as if some phantom hand seized her heart and made it pace double time, knowing deep inside that it wasn't Fuji who was making it so.

        Recollection.

        "_What is it you want in life?"_

        A low, sinister tune.

        _What do I_ want_?_

        "Fifteen minutes to cool down."

        "Body temperature at ninety-nine point eight degrees."

        Bass.

        _I wish…_

        Brow furrowing.

        _I… want…_

        Jackson groused an anxious hand over his face, immediately disliking the suspicious look on Reiko's face, the same look that displayed the fear and alarm that exploded into a hastened pursuit weeks ago. 

        "Back off, Fuji," the older guard commanded, his voice uncharacteristically betraying concern.

        Through their headsets, more reports.

        "Respiration rate at twenty-four breaths per minute."

        "Blood pressure rising but stable—"

        "Temperature still holding—"

        "Heart rate elevated to normal high range—"

        Orchestral progression.

        "Beta brain wave activity on the rise."

        Yoshikawa threw a glance at the brain wave panel.  _Bingo…_  The lab coordinator waved at the DJ to get his attention.  "Ear mark this song and others like it, Yohei-san.  Keep it coming."  With an assenting nod, Yohei's hands shuffled across the turntable, moving the equalizer shifters before flipping his thick CD case open.  

        Following the older guard's orders, Fuji stepped back, and to Reiko's surprise Jackson stood in his colleague's stead.  It was far too early to switch sparring partners, and seeing the worried weight of his gaze only increased the confusion and added to the panic that began to fill her.  Jackson needed to calm the storm that was building.

        "You need not worry, Nakamichi-dono."

        She stepped back and held her breath.

        Confusion.

        "I—I know… yet—"

        Blink.

        "Yet what?"

        Bass.

        Unfamiliar dissonance.

        "… I do not…"

        One hundred forty bpm.

        Attack.

        Reiko barely blocked the fist that aimed for her sternum and was somewhat shaken by it, not expecting Jackson to make a move so abruptly.  Before she could think of a reason, Jackson advanced with a flurry of kicks and swings, and she took a hit from his last kick to the thigh.  She let out a shocked cry and staggered backwards, obviously pained by the larger guard's attack. The other guards gasped at the startling scene, appalled speechless; in all the times they've sparred with her, they never followed through with a hit even if she had left an opening for them.  It was always a moderate tap or they ceased altogether.  This time, Jackson didn't seem to follow the command he gave Fuji earlier, and his eyes stared squarely at Reiko's confused and alert orbs of grey.  In his gaze was a muted purpose, something that he wanted to impart and make her understand, though what it was she really didn't know.  She eased a little when Jackson took a somewhat passive stance, his pace steady and slow as he paced around her. 

        "You're confused, aren't you?"  
        Reiko gasped at the question and quickly evaded his bounding attack, catching his arm and turning around to counter with a blow to Jackson's shoulder.  Successfully connecting, she plants a foot against his hip and kicks him, using him as leverage to push off and somersault away from the guard.  Jackson turned to face his charge, momentarily grasping his shoulder and rotating his arm.  

        "That was good.  Now, let's make it even better."

        The burly guard shifted his weight to his other leg, his arms taking on a stance familiar to Reiko's eyes.  It resembled the stance of attack Master Li had taught her when she retreated to California, and the sight made her take a deep breath of understanding.  Jackson was trying to calm her by forcing her hone her concentration in defending herself.  Putting one foot forward, she tucked one arm behind her back and extended the other, a ready invitation to engagement.  Jackson was quick to oblige.

        As they attacked and parried each other's hits, Sakai grasped the same understanding and slowly paced in worry.  He held his tongue all that time, knowing that any objection to Jackson's rather aggressive maneuvers would confuse their charge even more.  Reiko and the guards were all taught by the same master, trained with the same techniques, moved in the same style.  Concentration predicted the outcome of sparring, and the one who had the strictest control over it became the victor.  In the many years of serving as sentry for the Nakamichi family, laying a finger against any of the family members not only meant termination, it was the ultimate form of disrespect and insolence to those who have helped them so much in life.  Their job was to protect, and every strike Jackson lashed out on Reiko made the older guard grit his teeth in frustration.  He knew Jackson's intentions were good, but he never expected nor wanted Reiko to get hurt, and at the rate his colleague was going, it didn't look like he was going to hold back.  Through their headsets, one of the lab coats' voices broke to keep count of time.

"Eight minutes remaining."

        The younger guards could feel the apprehension emanate from Sakai's pacing form.

        "Oxidated toxin level at seventy-six point three percent and climbing."

        "Jackson, that's enough.  Please, back off."

        Flip.

        Twirl.

        Kick.

        "Heart rate now at one hundred and sixty-two beats per minute."

        "Jackson…"

        A throaty gasp.

        "Temperature at one hundred point three degrees Fahrenheit."

        On the viewing deck, Yoshikawa's eyes peered earnestly through his spectacles onto the sparring figures on the lawn, his inner lip nearly chewed inside out from nervousness.  He knew the exercise had to stop, but something made him hesitate as the music that filled the lawn saturated the evening air with the rich tones of an operatic voice singing to an evocative orchestration.  Looking at the brain wave monitor once more before casting the DJ a sidelong glance, he opened his mouth to call it off when shouts erupted from his headset.

        "Nakamichi-dono, watch out!"

        By the time the lab coordinator had reacted to the warning, Jackson had sprung into the air, his fists poised to rain down punches on his charge.  Yoshikawa's reaction caught in his throat as his eyes followed the remaining guards' running figures on the lawn, their shouts deafening to the ears.  In another second, Reiko was forcefully pushed away, Jackson's attacked blocked by Sakai's forearm.  "Jackson, what the hell's gotten into you?!" he yelled, Sakai's hand grappling Jackson's arm.

        The large guard didn't even bother to look at his colleague.  "Stay out of this, Sakai.  She's so close—"

        "Close to what?  Getting killed?  Give it a fucking break, Jackson!" Fuji shouted, his arm holding Reiko back protectively, Miller standing close to their charge.

        Jackson ignored all protestation and ripped away from Sakai's grip, his stern gaze meeting the stunned grey eyes of their charge as they stood in the boom and blare of musical rhythm.  "I know what you're looking for."  Ignoring Fuji's venomous glare, he paced towards the woman cowering behind his colleague.  "And you won't get it if you keep running away from it."

        Reiko's eyes widened at Jackson's words, their meaning boring deep into the core of her heart.  

        "In this world, surviving means you constantly have to take risks."

        A step forward.

        "And hesitation can mean the difference between winning and losing."

        Slightly bent knees.

        "Permanence and transience."

        An outstretched arm.

        "Living and merely existing."

        A pause.

        "Face me now, Nakamichi-dono.  Take the risk of being hurt.  Succeed in beating me, and know the difference between a lucid decision and one fueled with consternation.  This is about knowing what you want and doing something about it.  All our lives, you and I have loved and lost, walked around our feelings like we were on eggshells.  This time, we have to let it go… all our guilt, all the uncertainty.  None of that matters now.  What truly matters… is what you want from here on out.  So, what will it be, Nakamichi-dono?"

        Blink.

        "Harbor your fears and live in the past, or come to terms with it and seek what you want.  Tell me, what do you want?"

        Grey waxing teary blue.        

        All figures on the lawn must have appeared as statues to those standing behind the glass window of the viewing deck, for not one body stirred after what was said.  The collective white coats huddled by the window with their breaths caught in their throats watching the scene unfolding before them, Yohei even leaving his turntable to see the spectacle below.  After what seemed like hours, Reiko stepped aside from Fuji's protective posture and stood a good distance away from her brawny opponent.  Her eyes remained fixed on the blades of grass as her lips parted to voice a quiet reply.

        "Mr. Miller, Fuji-san, Sakai-san, I am grateful for your protection," she said, her tone barely audible above the permeating music.  "However… I must agree with Mr. Jackson… all my life I have been doted on, told how sharp and intelligent I am, how gifted… so protected."  Orbs of cobalt rising to meet Jackson's unwavering stare, Reiko took her headset off and carefully tossed it aside, a pained shadow of a smile crossing her porcelain visage.  "Is this not laughable, that I am blessed with riches beyond imagination and yet so impoverished at the same time?"

        Silence.

        Balled fists.

        "It is so ridiculous, I do not know whether to laugh or cry… maybe both.  I… I was so naïve and childish then, Mr. Jackson… I was so childish… what I wanted then was too much to ask, and I lost everyone…"

        Tears escaped from the bluest pair of eyes the men have ever witnessed her possess, and Sakai couldn't stop the pity and sympathy from catching in his throat and welling in his eyes.  Fuji and Miller made a move to step forward but was stopped short by their charge shaking her head.

        "No, please don't."

        "But, Nakamichi-dono—"

        A hand held out.

        "You men have been with me through it all… surely it must hurt you to be around someone so cursed, to serve as your fathers have…  do you not fear of suffering the same fate? Why do you persist in staying to protect me?"

        On the viewing deck of the lab, every one watched in strained silence, unable to utter a word in the midst of the escalating numbers on screens and the siren voice of the spellbinding music, all of them startled at the doors to the lab swinging open.  They almost heard their lab coordinator gasp at the sight of Mitsui walking through the door.

        "Hey, guys.  Sorry I'm late.  What's going on?"

        The audience swung their gaze from the newcomer back to the lawn as a voice spoke through their headsets, Miller's breath hitching as he tried to reason with Reiko.  "Nakamichi-dono, we… we choose to live as our fathers would have us live, and that's with our own choices—"

        "Please excuse me from interrupting you, Mr. Miller, but there is something I would like to prove to myself and to all of you before I tell you something I've been meaning to tell you for a very long time… I promise to tell you after I finish, and…" her voice trembled, unheard by the others, "Hopefully I will have the answer I am seeking as well."  Letting a few more tears escape the corners of her eyes, Reiko closed them and took a couple of deep breaths before opening them to rest on her challenger's stance poised for battle.  

        Another deep breath.

        A step forward. 

        "Mr. Jackson... do your worst."

        A collective gasp erupted from the viewing deck, sparking Mitsui's curiosity, making the shooting guard walk over to Yoshikawa's side, the aura of rigid unease about the lab coats bringing Mitsui's hairs to stand on end.  For the first few moments, he dismissed the feeling as nothing more than the chilly climate of the lab.  However, after seeing Reiko's kick miss Jackson's torso and the latter's fist making contact with her shoulder, Mitsui couldn't believe his eyes as he stood frozen in spot, mouth agape at the sight of Reiko recovering painfully from the impact.  

        "What the hell is going on?  Jackson-san is never this rough with Reiko-san!" Mitsui growled, the words barely articulate through his clenched jaw.  

        Yohei turned to Mitsui and was about to recap the events when he noticed the song that currently played through the speakers.  Eyes widening, he ran to the table and flipped through the slot from where he got the CD.  "Um… Yoshikawa-san?"

        The lab coordinator could barely give the DJ his attention, his gaze cemented to the lawn.  "Yes?"  
        "Remember how you told me to earmark the songs that produced all those results you wanted?"  
        "Well, the song that's playing right now not only gave you those numbers, it's the same one that played when she went berserk."

        Yoshikawa craned his head over his shoulder.  "What?"  
        "Would someone tell me what the fuck's going on?!"  Mitsui was trying his best to keep his temper in check, but all the inattention to his queries was pushing the limits of his patience.  He grabbed Yoshikawa's shoulder when the lab coats manning the viewing deck monitors frantically piped out stats.  

        "Sir, you have to stop them, her heart's going into dysrhythmia!"

        Sequential beeps.

        "Temperature now at one hundred five and rising—"

        "Oxidated toxin level at ninety-one percent!"

        The rest of the lab coats scattered to their stations and muttered curses at the sight of the red numbers flashing on the panels.  One of them groaned in guilt.  "What the fuck were we thinking, watching them like old bags in front of a TV soap… damn it, her heart rate has reached tachycardia!"

        Yoshikawa stomped his way back to the viewing deck and barked through his headset's wire mic.  "Jackson, stop this madness right this instant!"  

        Mitsui didn't wait for a response and rushed through the double doors.  Yohei saw this from the corner of his eye and yanked off the headphones from his neck.  "Mitsui, wait!"

        It seemed like it took an eternity to run through the hallway, to the exit doors of the building before finally rounding the building to the edge of the exercise lawn.  Mitsui didn't even hear Yohei shouting at him, especially now that they were in the bass-filled milieu of the lawn where two engaging figures teetered over the balance between love and loss, the former a territory uncharted and yet sought-after like the most precious jewel on earth, their breathing labored as their chests heaved for air.

        Through their headsets, all who witnessed below could hear Jackson's winded breath.

        "I know—what it is I want, Mr. Jackson."

        Rain of fists.

        "Then out with it!"

        Leg swipe.

        "All I have ever wanted—"

        Sidestep.

        "—Is on the lawn before me…"

        Reiko quickly somersaulted backwards to evade Jackson's kick, and it surprised the large guard to see her stand passively without a stance of defense.  He moved to rush towards her, and in the blink of an eye she was gone from his sight.  Turning around quickly, he was met with a forceful kick that hit him square on his chest, sending him crashing ungracefully to the ground.  

        "Reiko!" Mitsui yelled at the top of his lungs, fearing that no matter how loud he shouted at her, she would not give him the attention needed to stop the intensity of their fight, her wraithlike gaze piercing through Jackson's glaring eyes as she watched him stand on his feet.  Regaining composure, they again collided with attacks like unstable particles ready to split.  

        It made no sense to Mitsui how and why the other guards could just let the fighting before them escalate this far.  // _They're__ supposed to protect her, not pummel her to the ground! _//

        Jackson and his charge drew apart to catch their breaths, each trying to predict the other's next move, when the muscled guard watched her round him with a stance foreign to what he and the others had been taught.  He didn't wait for her to strike first, for he didn't want to have any time to second guess this gamble he was playing with his charge.  This was no longer child's play for Reiko.  This time, he wanted her to lay out all that she'd been hiding in the open, and if it took an act of aggression for her to let it go, then so be it.  His fist never made contact with her shoulder as she swiftly evaded his attack and countered with two hits to his abdomen and neck, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him immobile.

        Mitsui cried out to get her attention once more, but to no avail.  His voice could not be heard above the surging rhythm of the music.  He figured the only way to stop the two from fighting was holding one of them back.  Appalled as he was to watch Reiko deliver a succession of blows to Jackson's chest, he was able to latch a firm grip around her arm that prevented her from completely knocking her hulking sentinel to the ground.  

        "Reiko, stop this right now!" he shouted, jerking her arm away and tucking it behind her back.  The rest of the guards were somehow finally able to tend to the sparring partners, blood spewing from his mouth as he bent over to cough violently.  Without warning, Reiko took a step back, taking Mitsui by surprise and wresting away from his grasp before throwing him down.  The guards called out in disbelief and Sakai quickly approached their charge.

        "Nakamichi-dono, please, calm down!"

        Dazed and confused, Mitsui shook his head before laying eyes on Reiko, wondering if she had not recognized him and acted in self-defense.  Getting on his feet, he noticed her face wear a pained wince before blinking her eyes, a wraithlike shade of blue.  

        "Reiko-san?" he entreated, advancing towards her but keeping the same cautious distance as Sakai had.  All who watched the woman in the body suit gasped at the sight of blood seeping from one of her nostrils, the back of her hand wiping at the warm liquid.  It became evident to the men on the field that she had received just as many if not more blows than Jackson had, and though she may have been the victor of the fierce sparring match, her body was not as steeled as her resolve was to prove her point.  She looked at Jackson with apologetic eyes, her other hand moving to clasp onto her left collar bone, the ghostly echo of a melodious voice piercing the night air all around them.  

        A bloody, outstretched hand.

        "This succession technique… was not what won me this match, Mr. Jackson…"

        A steady stream of blood.

        "Reiko-san, don't—"

        A slow shake of the head.

        "I would like…"

        Breath hitched.

        "…For you to know—"

        Double vision.

        "—That you men are as important as air is to my lungs…"

        A strained breath.

        "…and as cherished as family in my heart…"

        Cold sweat.

        "All of you…"

        Sakai beat Mitsui and Fuji in catching the toppling form of their charge, more blood trickling from her nose, her eyes barely able to stay open to meet the men's worried gazes.  Huddling around Sakai as he lowered her down to the ground, Mitsui untucked his shirt and used the bottom of it to wipe the blood that flowed from her nose and pinched her nose to stop the blood, the shooting guard near tears at the incredulity of the events and the speed at which they happened.  

        "Why?" he asked breathlessly, his anxious eyes filled with grief. "… Why do you push so hard to the point of taking ten years off every one's life?"

        Seeing Miller and Jackson join the huddle, she let a small smile creep across her paling lips.  Not waiting for an answer, Sakai asked everyone to clear some room and carried Reiko off the ground, her limbs dangling as the older guard took her back inside the lab with the rest of the men following closely.  Once inside, Sakai placed her on an examining table where the white coats surrounded her for close inspection, Yoshikawa and the others unzipping the second skin suit that covered her body.  Just before they took the suit off, she strained to raise her hand, looking as if to reach for the men who turned their back respectfully at her soon-to-be state of undress.

        A cough.

        "How… how did you do it?"

        Confused gazes.

        "To whom are you referring?" 

        A trickle of blood.

        Gasp.

        "Midori nee-san…"

        At the name of his deceased beloved, Jackson raised his hung head and craned it over to look at his immobilized charge.  Yoshikawa was too busy trying to prevent her from hemorrhaging any further, but tried to remain calm and get her to keep talking to him.

        "What about your sister?"

        A pause.

        "Crap, the heart monitor's beeping close to extreme tachycardia!"

        "Hook her up to the IV, now!" demanded the lab coordinator, his forehead covered in a cold sweat.  Taking Reiko's hand, he clutched it lightly as he coaxed her to answer, her eyes slowly closing.  "Come on, tell me, Nakamichi-dono… what about your Midori nee-san?"

        Jolted by Yoshikawa's gentle jerk, Reiko's eyes opened wider, blue-grey orbs staring blankly at the ceiling as she smiled.

        "Did you not hear her… singing… out… side…"

        It was then she succumbed to darkness, the eyes of those who tended to her moving to the heart monitor with held breaths, fearing to see and hear the flatline sound of death.  Relieved to see a steady pulse, Yoshikawa and the others scrambled to stabilize her narrow pulse and placed an oxygen mask over her face.  

        Minutes after she had been stabilized, Yoshikawa didn't know if he wanted to wake and scold her or find a punching bag and beat it till his knuckles were bloody.  _She promised not to take the exercise too far!_  Choosing instead to walk over to the men who gathered outside the treatment room, he tried to console himself with this thought: if she could make it through this physical beating, she could make it through anything.  The night was far from over, and until she was detoxified, no one was going home.  He glanced down at his watch.  _Eleven forty-one__._  Garnering silent, tired looks from the guards and Mitsui, Yoshikawa quietly leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and sagged down until he was sitting with his knees bent and his head hung humbly low.

****************************************************

        Bending over to tie his shoelaces tighter, Rukawa took to his lungs the crisp air of the late autumn morning.  He never missed his personal appointment with the basketball court every morning, and as he began his dribbling exercises with the basketball, his surroundings seemed to fade away from his mind, the texture and burnt orange color of the ball his concentration's only object.  From quick turns to fade away shots to lay-ups, it wasn't until his shirt was drenched in sweat when he realized that he was no longer alone in his morning sanctuary.  There on the bench sat a very quiet figure, elbows resting on his thighs and curly hair crowning his bowed head.  How long had he been there watching him?  Rukawa tilted his head as stopped dribbling the ball and caught it to rest against his hip.  

        "Miyagi?" he called out, not sure if it was his former teammate or not.

        The man sitting raised his head at the name.  "Hey."

        Rukawa blinked at the terse greeting.  Wiping the sweat off his brow, he walked over to the bench and grabbed the towel from his backpack.  Taking a seat next to his friend, he cast a sidelong glance at Miyagi before uttering another word. 

        "What's up?" he quietly asked, slinging the towel over his shoulder.

        A slow shake of the head.  

        "Nothing now."

        _Huh?_

        "Hey, are you okay?"

        No reply.

        Not knowing how to react to the awkward atmosphere, Rukawa let his friend sulk in silence as he chugged water out of the water bottle by his backpack.  Once his thirst was sated, he mulled over what could possibly be eating at his friend's usually boisterous mood.  A few minutes went by and only a somber sigh escaped Miyagi's lips, to which Rukawa reacted with a scratch to his head.  Miyagi often wore his heart on his sleeve, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that in it was his love for Ayako and his eyes practically beamed hearts and stars at everyone.  Having no experience with relationships, Rukawa had no words of consolation to offer should his suspicion that Miyagi's problem is about Ayako be true.  And was the ground really all that interesting to Miyagi?  Taking the basketball, he stood and began to dribble to the middle of the court.  Between a man who was terse with words and a man who uncharacteristically had none to offer, they only had one thing in common to which they could relate.

        "Shoot some hoops with me."

        Miyagi looked up from his seat, slowly sitting up at Rukawa's quiet offer.  

        Understanding.  

        "Okay… but don't be surprised if you leave here a loser."

        _Now _that's _the Miyagi I know._

"Put your money where your mouth is."

        A pass.

        Smirk.

        "Let's go."

****************************************************

        "What's wrong, Haruko?  You sound a little down."

        Static.

        "Oh, it's nothing, really… I think my reception's going bad."

        "Sakuragi's not being a jackass, is he?  If he makes you cry, so help me—"

        "If it's anybody who's making anyone cry, it's Miyagi-senpai."

        "What?"

        Crackles.

        "Yesterday I ran into Ayako-senpai and she was in tears, her eyes were so red."

        Disbelief.

        "What the hell happened?"

        "Well, she made me promise not to tell anyone else… but Onii-chan, I'm willing to break my promise if you help me help her out."

        A pause.

        "Miyagi had better not hurt her… you have my word.  So… spill."

  
****************************************************

        She awoke with a metallic taste in her mouth, her eyes slowly opening to find herself tucked in her bed, her left upper limb restrained, and electrode patches attached to her chest and head.  She groaned inwardly and attempted to get up, her free hand rubbing her eyes from slumber.  Blinking, Reiko found Mitsui slumped over in a chair barricading the front door, closed and deadbolted.  

        _When was there a deadbolt for the door?_

        The last time she found herself in this situation, she had caused mayhem and chaos for the guards and Mitsui.  And now, as she quietly got up to get a drink of water in the bathroom, all she could think of was how to apologize to the men who willingly went out of their way to placate her inclinations.  Unlike before, she remembered everything instantly and vividly, the shouts of pleas from the other guards and Mitsui, the cold fire in Jackson's eyes with each hit that connected with her body… and in the end, they still remained loyal and considerate regardless of how much she got hurt or how much she hurt them.  

        This was not how she wanted to show her gratitude.  

        Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she scrutinized the restraint on her left shoulder.  She didn't understand why they replaced it on her, she felt just fine.  Removing the Velcro straps, she freed her arm of the brace and upon doing so a warm voice startled her into dropping the restraint. 

        "How do you feel?" Mitsui asked, his arm leaning against the bathroom doorframe.  His brows furrowed.  "Do you think you should be taking that off?"  Not giving her time to answer, he reached down and picked the brace up, placed it on the countertop and took a good look at Reiko's fair face.  His lips betrayed a small smile as he sighed.  "You… are one of the toughest people I know."

        Not able to meet his warm gaze, she lowered her blue eyes to the tiles on the floor.  "I caused trouble again."

        Instead of replying, he took her hand and ushered her back to sit on the bed.  "Yoshikawa-san was pretty upset and worried about you at the same time.  The man nearly cried last night."  Reiko's head bowed in shame at his words, her eyes closing as Mitsui continued.  "Jackson-san received some internal injuries, but other than that he'll be okay."

        "I am so sorry—"  
        "I had to convince Fuji-san, Miller-san and Sakai-san to get some sleep last night, otherwise they would've camped right outside your door.  They left when I told them I'd watch over you, but not without putting a deadbolt on your door."

        Reiko suddenly stood and headed for the door, Mitsui reaching for her left arm and effectively stopped her as a wince passed over her porcelain face.  Hearing her hiss, he immediately let her go.  "I—I'm sorry… let me put the brace back on you—"

        "I will heal in a day or two, Mitsui-san.  Please, let me see my men," she pleaded, her cerulean gaze proving to be Mitsui's undoing, her hand reaching for her re-injured clavicle.  He didn't know what to think of what she just said, knowing well enough that people just don't heal that quickly.  Placing a hand on her good shoulder, he cupped her face with the other and touched his forehead against hers.  

        "I'll let you see them, Reiko.  I'll let you do whatever you want…  But you have to assure me that you won't outdo yourself out there like you did last night, for your men's sake, for your sake… and for mine," he whispered, caressing the silken surface of her cheek.  "Will you do that for me?"

        It was not an unreasonable request, and she could not deny Mitsui, not after what he had been through to be with her.  Acquiescing, she moved to cover the hand that touched her face with her own.  "I hurt you, didn't I?" her quivering lips uttered, afraid she would offend him if she spoke any louder. 

        "No, you didn't.  Don't worry, it takes more than a throw to hurt me," he said, cracking a brief grin at her.  // _But it only takes one tear from you to crush me. _//  Seeing her still dejected, Mitsui dared to embrace her, a bold yet feeble attempt to uplift her apologetic spirit.  She welcomed the contact, her head resting against his shoulder and her entire being finding sanctuary and relief in the steady beat of his heart against her chest.  

        "You… you were a completely different person last night… as if you lost yourself out there…"

        Confusion.

        "Last night was out of control, Reiko… I need to understand why you pushed yourself so far."

        She opened her mouth to explain yet no words came out, for she herself could not clearly define her frustration.  Last night, Jackson opened a Pandora's box that contained all those questions she dared not ask, and when she acted on his challenge to face what she had been so reluctant to claim for herself, all that echoed in her mind was the dissonant, feeble voice of self-deprecation.

        _You are so selfish._

        Mitsui noticed the trembling breaths she struggled to take, inwardly cursing himself for trying to extricate explanations from her so soon.  "You've had a rough night… you don't have to tell me anything if it makes you uncomfortable," he whispered into her ear, his hand tenderly caressing the top of her head.  // _Just__ please don't cry… _//

        He waited for her to regain her composure and respectfully turned his back as she dressed herself in the closet.  She chided herself over and over as she slipped into casual clothes, silently coaching herself to hold fast the floodgates of tears that threatened to break; she felt bad enough that everybody had to fuss and worry over her, and God knows Mitsui had worried more about her than all guards put together.  Once dressed, she emerged and watched him unlock the deadbolt, and before he led her downstairs, he entreated her to wear the arm restraint to prevent the bodyguards' minds from swimming with concern.  She put up no protest as Mitsui helped secure the straps on her, the shooting guard easing at the soft spoken thanks that passed between her lips.  How he wished he could take away her infirmity, not caring if he had to lose a limb or all the blood in his veins; if he could just put everything back to normal for her, he would do it.  His thoughts were rewarded by the gentle clutch of her hand in his, provoking a contented sigh from his throat.  

        For now, this would have to do.

        As they made their way to the servant's quarters, Reiko could hear her dog barking through the front door which swung open to release the corgi, excited at its reunion with its master.  In the doorway stood Sakai, his lips upturned into a small smile despite the visible sign of fatigue on his face, nodding a silent acknowledgment to Mitsui as they watched her pet the happy dog.  Lifting her gaze up, Reiko left the dog to prance around the yard and greeted the older guard with a humble bow, her uneasiness betrayed when she found it difficult to meet Sakai's gaze.  

        Knowing who she came for, Sakai led their charge to Jackson's quarters where he was reading the morning paper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.  She spied the outline of what looked like bandages under his white undershirt, several bandaids concealing small cuts and faint bruising up and down his muscular arms.  Reiko all of a sudden felt shame flood her being, flustering her cheeks in humiliation.  How she was able to inflict such force against a strapping man his size was beyond her comprehension, but his injuries only served as a reminder of the unstable state her mind and body undergoes, almost to the brink of madness unrestrained.  For someone so refined, reserved and well-bred, no one can understand the embarrassment of not knowing how to account for such behavior.  Jackson could only look back in polite silence.  

        "Please excuse me, Nakamichi-dono.  I have to help Fuji and Miller with the cars," Sakai lied, sensing the awkward tension between injured guard and charge.  "I'll be in the garage if you need me."  With that, he met Jackson's grateful gaze and left the two alone.  Sakai chewed on his inner lip as he walked downstairs straight through the front door.  Greeting a waiting Mitsui once more, guilt gnawed at his insides, knowing very well that Fuji and Miller were passed out in their rooms from last night's careful ministrations on Reiko, the barking of the dog telling him to dismiss the white lie.  As he quietly discussed the previous night's events with Mitsui, he silently hoped that Yoshikawa could give them an explanation before the day was over.  

****************************************************

        "How do you feel, Nakamichi-dono?" Jackson asked, his smooth baritone voice plucking a guilty chord in Reiko's chest.  As he rose from his seat, she shook her head in quiet protest and gently pushed him down to remain in his seat.  

        "I should be the one asking you that question, Mr. Jackson," she answered, trying to withstand the searching eyes of her guard she found so hard to meet, her own limpid orbs full of unspoken apologies.  Each tried to utter a word to the other, both coming short with the right words to say.  

        The unexpected sound of Velcro ripping apart snapped Jackson's focus on his charge's actions, about to object when she knelt down and bowed her head before him.  To add to his astonishment, the words she said afterwards made his eyes go wide in wonder.

        "Toshiro nii-chan,… please grant this selfish person one request," her voice trembled, refusing to let him see her embarrassment much further.  

        What was he to say?  To hear her ask for a request wasn't that peculiar, but to hear the sound of his name spoken so informally was as foreign to him as what she did next, an act she reserved only for the ones closest to her in the past.  His breath caught as her arms all of a sudden encircled his bandaged torso in a childlike embrace, her hold gentle and innocent, considerate of the injury he sustained.  When he got over the initial shock from the contact, his arms reflexively reached over to return the gesture.

        "I am so sorry… I did this to you… I do not know how to make up for my misbehavior."

        Dismissal.

        "Don't apologize.  I coaxed you into fighting me… I take full responsibility."

        Overflowing pools of blue.

        "I… do not know what is happening to me, inside me… in my mind.  I am full of regret and gratitude at the same time… because I know what you were speaking of… I know what I want… it is there before my eyes, and if I just reach out my hand, it can be mine…"

        Jackson felt her clutch tighten around him.

        "But… I do not think I deserve to get what I want… the fear of facing another heartache holds me back from facing the truth… and last night, I understood the hesitation, all those times I could not say or do anything when the chance to end the tumult in my heart presented itself… and it came at the price of your spilt blood—"

        A desperate grasp.

        "It doesn't matter if it takes a drop or a liter, my blood can be replaced… it's a small price to pay for a step away from all you have suffered."

        Sob.

        "You men are all I have left… and my heart tells me that it is wrong to let you stay and watch over me… I will only hurt you in the end—"

        Frustration.

        "Please do not question our reasons for staying with you… last night wasn't your fault and what you did was not intentional."

        Furious dissent.

        "I refuse to believe that I had no part in this!  Look at your injuries!  How can you dismiss the fact that I can inflict such damage upon a man twice my size?  It makes no sense!  And what horrifies me is that I do not understand how I am able to do this and why I cannot stop myself… I am truly losing my mind!"

        _Enough!_

        "Silence, Reiko!" Jackson growled, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her apart from him, not caring for the pain that radiated from his ribs nor the wounded look on her tear-streaked face.  As if it wasn't enough for her to beat him up, she was mentally pounding herself for something he challenged her to do and she couldn't control.  Eyes closing in defeat, she felt his thick fingers graze away the tears that flowed like a broken dam.  

        "Look at me."

        Daring not to disobey, azure orbs opened to a familial tenderness in the brawny guard's eyes.

        "It's been incredibly hard for you all these years.  I know so, because it's been hard for me, too.  Your loss is nothing compared to mine, that's obvious… but I am very fortunate, because I have a part of Midori I can hold on to… I have you.  And that's why I stay to protect you.  You are Midori's little treasure, the sister who adored her and did everything she loved to do.  She is gone now, and I miss her terribly… but in this life or the next, I don't think she would ever want you to cling to the past and all its heartache.  I know it's easier said than done, but we have to deal with it, and we have to move on.  I loved your sister and I still do… you are the one thread connecting me to her… through her I felt the kind of happiness love can bring… and through you, I know what it's like to be an older brother."

        Relieved to see her tears abated, Jackson gave her a small grin as he nudged to lift her chin up.  "I am an only child, Reiko," he confessed, his timbre low and even. "I didn't know what it was like to share my toys , my little victories and defeats when I was younger, and I dealt with the hard knocks of life without someone to talk or look up to.  So when I heard and saw how you idolized Midori, I was a little envious of her.  A younger sibling who loved you, hung on your every word and paid attention to your counsel… I wished for someone like that.  You allowed me to have that privilege, holding my hand and your sister's when you tagged along for her afternoon walks, addressing me by my first name… and through you I understood the importance of familial devotion.  To have someone to depend on, and be someone they can cling to in rough times… I know this is what you need… and I know this is part of what you want.  Only twice have you sought solace from me… the first in a long time back in California… and right now being the second.  Will you make us wait that long to let us help you?  You are an extension of family to me, Reiko, and I'm sure Fuji, Miller and Sakai feel the same way.  All we ever want is for you to be safe, to move on and be happy.  Your safety is part of our duty.  Your happiness is our wish."

        Yet again, Reiko was speechless.  In her bereavement, she became silent and numb to what others felt and retreated into a shell of reticence and masked respect.  

        "So, little one," he said, part in jest and part in earnest, "will you let me help you to be happy and tell me the rest of what it is you want?"  
        It took a few seconds for her to respond, broadening Jackson's smile with a small, coy grin of her own. 

        Liberation.

        "I—I had no idea…"

        A shrug.

        "Well… now you know."

        A pause.

        "I have an idea of _who _you want."

        Averted gaze.

        "Don't think I haven't noticed that ring you've been wearing."

        Gasp.

        A throaty laugh.

        "It's okay, it was bound to happen."

        Curious tilt.

        "I… have not given him an answer.  He seems to have made it… a personal challenge."

        "Oh?  How so?"

        "It is not easy to be with someone so ill-fated—"

        Berating gaze.

        "None of that when I'm around."

        Reiko let out a sheepish giggle before looking down at the large hands that held hers.  "Perhaps complicated might be a better word."

        _Much better._

        The muted ringing of the Jackson's cell phone halted him from interjecting, letting her stand up and retrieve it for him to answer.  As she waited quietly for him to finish, Reiko felt a dull ache swell in left collar bone, prompting her to take the brace from the floor and replace the restraint onto her arm.  Jackson stood to help her secure the rest of the Velcro straps in place as he stowed his cell phone away in his pocket.  

        "That was Yoshikawa.  He says to come to the lab at your earliest convenience.  They have a lot of work to do on you."

        Jackson could see through those guilt-ridden eyes and gently nudged her.  "Don't worry about him, he's not angry with you, at least not anymore."  The hulking guard had some difficulty in putting on his shirt, grimacing as he reached to slip his arms into the sleeves.  "But one good thing is he had Yoshi send over a lot of food to the lab, so you won't have to worry about going hungry," he said, managing to grin at her despite the pain in his ribs.    
        The look of childish relief was priceless on her lovely face.  "I am glad to hear that, Mr. Jackson.  I am quite famished."

        _So we're back to formality, are we?_

"Shall we go then?  Mitsui-san must be waiting for you outside."

        "Is it all right for you to be up and about?"  
        Jackson smirked.  "I won't break into pieces just by walking around.  Besides, they want to follow up on my injuries."

        Yielding, Reiko turned and proceeded to walk out of the room, but she didn't get far without turning around, halting the guard in mid-stride.  

        "Thank you, Toshiro nii-chan…" she trailed off, a grateful smile gracing her face.  "Thank you so much."

****************************************************

Author's note:  Thank you so much for your patience.  This installment is only about two-thirds of what I wanted to post, and before I succumb to the idea of throwing in the towel, I would like to put up what I have now and think of the rest later (and hopefully rekindle a spark of inspiration).  To those who have sent me messages of encouragement, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.


	25. Chapter 24

Taking a deep breath, Mitsui mustered all his courage to peek through the small windows of the lab double doors at the numerous needles that pricked Reiko's soft skin, his eyes cringing at the swiftness of the lab coats' hands as they inserted the needles into her. The sight still made him weak in the knees, although he was a little proud of himself for not completely passing out at that moment. Feeling his phone vibrate, he reached for the device and looked at the caller ID.

_Pinnacle._

The sight of needles pricking skin suddenly doesn't look so bad, he thought, waiting another second to answer the call. At that instant, images of files and blueprints stacked three feet high from his desk flashed across his mind. Inwardly groaning, he had to face the music sooner or later. Huffing out a sigh, he patched the call through.

"This is Mitsui."

"Mitsui-kun! Where have you been? Are you all right?"

Surprised and relieved at the sound of his old secretary's voice, he grinned when he threw a glance at Reiko's supine form. "Yeah... I am now. What's going on?"   
"Well, it seems that I'm not the only one missing you around here."

Recoil.

"So am I fired yet? I know I haven't showed up for nearly over two weeks now—"

"Actually, Nishikado-san didn't even care about you being gone until we won the bid for the next Suzuki project, and he wanted you to personally oversee the plans... he's rather frantic about it, the stakes are double what we got for the last project."

Mitsui shut his eyes in recollection. _Crap, I totally forgot about that..._ Though surprised that he wasn't yet handed a pink slip, he couldn't believe that he didn't even get a word of reprimand for disappearing from work so long.

"When's the due date?"

"Two weeks from now... Mitsui-kun, are you sure you're all right?" the old woman's voice asked, laced with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine."

A pause.

"You sound like a totally different person."

Chuckle.

"Maybe it's because I found my old self again."

Sigh.

"That's good to know. So, what should I tell Nishikado-san when he pokes his head in your office for the thirtieth time today?"

Contemplation.

"I'm going to have to get back with you on that... but could you send those plans to my parents' house by courier?"

"Will do, but try not to be gone for long. The man paces around the floor like his wife's about to have a baby, it's driving everyone crazy."

"Thanks for letting me know."

"Sure thing, dear. Bye now."   
Click.

Drawing his gaze back to the beauty that lay still on the treatment table, Mitsui gently tapped the corner of his cell phone against his chin. As much as he wanted to spend the rest of his days with Reiko, he knew he had to fulfill his obligations at work. He would have to tell her later. Mitsui turned his head at the sound heels tapping against the quiet hallway of the lab.

"Mitsui-san," Fuji called out, his brow furrowed into a disquieting crease. "The meeting in the conference room is about to start."

The shooting guard nodded, trying not to let the concern on Fuji's face perturb him. "Lead the way."

* * *

Several panels in the walls of the conference room slid open to reveal six large plasma screens turning on at the touch of a button, Yoshikawa dimming the stadium lights illuminating the room as Fuji and Mitsui joined the rest of the guards. When the two took their seats, the lab coordinator stood at the head of the table, producing a small black remote control from his pocket. Before addressing his audience, Yoshikawa took a sip of coffee before setting his mug down next to the stack of bound packets before him. 

"Gentlemen, thank you for coming. If it looks like I haven't changed out of my clothes, it's because I didn't, so I apologize in advance for looking like a day old muffin."

A round of smiles beamed at the bespectacled man as he pointed the remote to the first plasma screen. "My colleagues and I haven't left the facility since last night to compile the information I am about to present to you today, so if I pause for a longer moment than usual, it's probably because I'm a little tired and I'm trying to catch my breath. The point of all these experiments is to find out the most optimal conditions possible that would give the highest toxin yield for Nakamichi-dono. Formulating the correct substrate mix for the immersion chamber was only half of it. We've since been working on the other half in California."

Clearing throat.

"Having said all that, please turn your attention to the first panel."

Graphs and numbers.

"This graph represents the level of oxidated toxin in Nakamichi-dono's body prior to last night's exercise. As you can see, the concentration was quite high since she did not get to detoxify for several days in optimum condition, that condition being an elevated metabolism through exercise-induced heart rate increase... in other words, the immersion process can leach more toxins from her when she expends a lot of her energy. Consequently, if she burns a lot of energy without a session in the tank, the toxins build up to a harmful level that severely affect Nakamichi-dono's health."

Multiple screens on.

"The following data on the next screens represent brain wave activity before, during and after exercise."

A raised hand.   
"Yes, Mitsui-san?"   
The point guard cleared his throat. "Um... I know I may look like a jock, and right about now I feel like one, but I was wondering if you could explain why her brain waves were monitored?"

Yoshikawa nodded. "Certainly." Pushing a few buttons on his remote, the lab coordinator pulled up graphs of different wavelengths on each plasma screen. "The human brain has four basic brain waves, delta, theta, alpha and beta. They relate to different states of consciousness, each important for certain mental situations. For example, delta is the slowest brain wave of the four and is seen in only the deepest stages of sleep. Theta is seen during states of drowsiness and light sleep, alpha waves are observed in relaxed wakefulness and alertness, and beta waves are seen under high stress where one is required to be in peak mental concentration and focus. In monitoring her brain waves, we can get a better picture of her mental performance on and off the field, to see how it influences her physical performance with variable sensory factors, one of them being music. This is why Yohei-san's expertise is invaluable to our study. Does this answer your question, Mitsui-san?"

Mitsui replied with a grin. "More than I wanted it to," he said, the other guards keeping their chuckles low. "Thanks."

"Not a problem."

Different graphs.

A long pause.

"We were... we were really concerned with how everything was going to turn out for her, with the loss of Dr. Nakamichi... we were afraid that she would be too depressed to continue with further testing. It was her uncle who first realized that physical exertion coupled by nervous stimulation actually allowed for more toxin yield with the immersion process, and we've been pursuing better results ever since. To our surprise she participated wholeheartedly in the research, and what you are about to see is the last variable Dr. Nakamichi proposed we explore."

Laser pointer.

"This first panel shows the average result of all the data collected during warm-up. These results are almost identical to the ones taken in California, and they show healthy, steady bursts of alpha brain wave activity, the alpha to beta ratio high. This tells us that she is relaxed, stress is at a low level. Music seems to prolong these alpha bursts, just as Dr. Nakamichi predicted."

Switch.

"This next one shows beta brain wave data during her sparring exercises. I have excluded last night's results as well as the night when she re-injured her clavicle, for they involved distinct variables which I will discuss in a moment. Note the progressions and the plateaus during the exercises, these bursts signifying the changing of a sparring partner."

Fuji leaned closer against Miller. "That must be me at the peak." He was rewarded with a painful nudge that earned a grimace from Fuji.

Yoshikawa hid his smile as he took a second to take another sip of his coffee.

"With every session that included music in it, alpha and beta bursts increased during warm-up and sparring, respectively. This proves that introduction of auditory stimuli as a sensory diversion actually improves her mental performance which in turn enhances her coordination and balance on the field. However, we noticed something was amiss at this low dip right here," the bespectacled man said, the laser pointer highlighting what looked like a dissonance of alpha and beta waves. "Looking back at our records, it is at this point that she began to have more beta than alpha bursts, indicating extreme stress, and it only got worse from this point on. You can clearly see that the alpha waves have altogether disappeared over here... this point represents the time frame a few days before Dr. Nakamichi's passing."

Click.

"As I mentioned before, beta waves are associated with high mental concentration, especially seen in highly stressful situations. This graph shows results during warm-up on the night she injured her clavicle. Note the disappearance of alpha waves, beta bursts being the only waves active during this time frame."

Furrowed brows.

Switch.

"And this is her brain activity during the sparring exercise."

The graph they saw on the screen showed jumps of beta activity from steady plateaus, the slope progressing at a steep incline. The men soaked the information silently in their seats, Reiko's mental distress becoming more and more apparent.

"It was also this same night that Nakamichi-dono began to have idiopathic epistaxis – commonly known as nosebleeds... we still don't know what is causing them. On another note, we have reason to believe that one type of music that was played that evening was partly responsible for the sudden spikes of beta wave activity."

Mumbles of inquiry erupted from the guards and Mitsui. "How is that possible, Yoshikawa-san?" Miller posed as his eyes roamed skeptically from screen to screen. "Wasn't the music the same throughout?"

"The tempo and rhythm may have been the same, but certain songs with symphonic arrangements, those sounding close to opera music."

Still receiving baffled looks from his audience, Yoshikawa took a moment to scroll through the computer menu on the first screen. Taking a deep breath, he hoped the next images would paint a clearer picture of Reiko's fragile mind.

"All right... now that you know what the brain wave studies are for, I need to tie all of this to the physical data together..."

Click.

"This set of data was collected the first night everything went out of control. I've shown you the brain waves... here now are the vital stats."

Mitsui couldn't help but look at the screen wide-eyed. _You mean there was more than _one_ night?!_ Everything across the board was elevated: her heart rate, pulse, blood pressure... it seemed as if she would explode and self-combust with the temperature she had, and the shooting guard couldn't understand the meaning behind the sympathetic and parasympathetic values.

"Hm... Okay, let me try to make this a little easier... here on this screen is a graph of her brain waves during exercise without the aforesaid music. Compared to the screen on the left, the vitals are pretty mild and on the low side."

Hesitation.

"Having seen that, you now know that physical exertion without orchestral sensory stimulation produces less remarkable results. And as for one _with_ such stimulation... it might be better if I show you video footage along with the stats for that first night. Um... please prepare yourselves, there are portions of this video that may disturb you," Yoshikawa warned, his last gaze resting on Mitsui. The shooting guard would've never imagined what he was about to show, little less knew of her whereabouts at the time. Seeing the object of his affections in such grueling conditions may generate unexpected reactions. He heeded his own advice. "All right, here we go."

At the push of a button, the sound of voices yelling at Reiko filled the room as the camera followed her fleeing form across the green lawn pelted with rain, Yoshikawa's panic-stricken speech recognizably heard above the dissonant voices of his colleagues reporting her near-fatal vitals out loud, the chaos choreographed with the music booming with bass and the richness of a hypnotic siren voice. Next to the screen replaying the tense scene were graphs showing steep slopes of data, her temperature compelling immediate medical intervention, beta brain waves erratic and out of control, her breathing shallow and distressed.

There was an air of tension about the guards, their jaws unconsciously clenching at the sight of their charge's unexplained fear turn into rage right before their eyes all over again. Fuji even flinched when he saw Reiko knock his lights out, a nervous sigh escaping from Miller's throat as he watched her walk menacingly towards his antalgic form. After sitting through Reiko's bloody nose and finally her collapse, Yoshikawa noticed the look of horror disbelief on the shooting guard's face. He quickly switched the video off. The lab coordinator reached for his coffee and took a big gulp, replacing the blank screen with another statistical graph. He decided that there was not time to reel at the truth unfolding before them.

"I... I know it's a lot to soak in, but what I'm about to tell you now is something my colleagues and I discovered last night. When you see and hear this, it might make much more sense of everything else I've told you. Let me replay the song that drove all these beta waves and vitals sky high, and the screen on the left corner will show you real time data progression."

It sounded like one of Yohei's DJ parties in the conference room with the quick rhythm and bass filling the space, and the sweet pitch of a soprano's dulcet voice mingled in smooth concert with a symphony of violins. A few seconds into the song, the beta wave reaction spiked and plateaued all over the graph, reaching progressively higher slopes, all the while her blood pressure and respiration rate increasing. Yoshikawa decreased the volume a bit to comment. "Notice the sympathetic response down here," he said as he placed the laser pointer over the values. "Her fight-or-flight response is highly stimulated, and at some point in the middle of the song her body couldn't take the massive sympathetic discharge anymore and she fainted right afterwards."

Mitsui himself couldn't help but react to the music, the hairs on his arms and head standing on end. There was an eerie, almost supernatural quality to the song, as if the voice that accompanied the music took the person listening to a higher level of trance.

"This screen to the right is the data collected from last night."

Similar reactions.

"I'm going to cut it off here now, because I want to point out a variable that none of us, not even Dr. Nakamichi thought of introducing."

Yoshikawa turned off all the bottom screens and directed their attention to the top half.

"Before I show you the next set real-time data, you need to see this clip of Nakamichi-dono in the immersion chamber the night Mitsui-san found her. Note the values on the right screen."

It wasn't so much as impressive as it was amusing to see the guard's mouths slowly gape open in awe, Mitsui the widest eyed out of all of them. While they watched the silent exchange between Reiko and the shooting guard, her slender finger tapping at the corner of her eye and pointing at Mitsui, the values on the adjacent screen crept to a slow and steady slope, bursts of alpha waves surging in an onslaught of waves.

End of video.

"Now I want to show you video and data from last night. Again, note the music and the values on the right."

A stormy chaos of beta waves scratched through the screen, with all her vitals charging and ready to explode, the erratic data coinciding to the time she sparred with strongest of the guards. Sakai noticed the slight shake of Jackson's head, somewhat knowing that his colleague felt a blow of guilt reverberate through him at the sight of Reiko's struggle. Once they saw Mitsui on the screen being thrown down on the ground, the data came to a lofty hiatus when Reiko realized who it was she took down, and from there all graphs and figures came to a tumbling course.

Alpha wave bursts.

"Last night, she asked me something that got me to think as to why she reacted so well to such type of song... she asked me how it was that her sister Midori-san was singing out in the exercise field."

Yoshikawa paused for a second, making all who listened to hang on to every word coming from his mouth, the heftiest of them all barely breathing.

"Possessing a highly developed intellect, Nakamichi-dono's ability to adapt mentally to her surroundings is something on a godlike plane. This doesn't really surprise me... she's of good stock. Her only physical shortcoming is the inability of her body to produce a protein needed to have normal blood cells, but even for that Dr. Nakamichi found a solution through genetic engineering, one that we are honing to this very minute. She is intellectually complex and fit, her talents are paramount ... and it is my belief that the limbic portions of her brain brought about the reaction she has to the music, mainly the voice behind the operatic songs... I heard in the past that she was very close to both her older siblings, her sister just a little bit more... my speculation is this – it is highly likely that, somehow, she was vicariously acting out the emotions she felt toward Midori-san, those songs fueling her to perform beyond what she is physically capable of doing, and yet... they were also somehow distorting her judgment, like throwing a wrench in a well-oiled machine."

Yoshikawa closed his eyes as he thought out loud.

"Being in such distress from losing her last blood relation and knowing that she will be the last Nakamichi standing, it's not impossible for her to crack under pressure. She is human just like the rest of us, even more fragile than most. She doesn't have to tell us that she misses her family, it is so evident in her performance, the way she practically knocks on heaven's door every time she goes over the edge... hearing that voice so familiar to her sister's, she is all too easily lost in its strains and it's almost as... as if she drives herself to exhaustion on purpose... whether it be for a chance to relive the presence of family, or the unspoken wish to join them. If all this speculation is right, then I would've seen no reason to continue the research... it would be futile and detrimental to her physical, not to mention mental health. But, after seeing these results, I knew it would be worth all our time to pursue."

A long, quiet pause.

"Mitsui-san," addressed the short man in the white coat as he placed the remote control on the table, "without knowing it, you have become the single, most significant variable in our research. In all the years of testing, we have never gotten such incredible results from her with any other variable... auditory stimulation is sub-par compared to your very presence in producing the optimal results from her. With music, we can reap over three quarters of the toxin in her body only after heavy exertion. With you alone, we were able to get a third, and that's without breaking a sweat or auditory stimulation. I can only imagine how much more successful her results will be with you here..."

Mitsui was speechless. Yoshikawa's voice, all the data that confused him before all made crystal clear sense now, and the fact that he could elicit such a reaction from her more than shocked him, it dazed him. He thought that all this time since he'd met her, he was the only one who felt as if he was struck badly by Cupid's arrows to the point of going mad, drawn to an inexplicable gravity that he couldn't prevent himself from falling into. On the screens was empirical proof of how she truly felt about him, a response needing no voice, a reaction no words could express.

"... And I know this might be too much to ask... but from here on out, we need you to participate in our research." The lab coordinator tilted his head at the unresponsive shooting guard, the latter's gaze fixed against the dull sheen of the stadium lights off the conference table. Fuji gave Mitsui a tap on the shoulder, effectively jolting him out of his stupor.

"Huh? I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Yoshikawa took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes with a small smirk on his tired face. "Yes. I was asking you to be part of our research..." Replacing his spectacles back on his face, what little satisfaction he had was replaced with an earnest gaze. "No, let me rephrase that... I'm _begging_ you to be part of our research... for Nakamichi-dono's sake."   
"Right..." Mitsui answered blankly, blinking at another thought that sparked in his mind. _I guess I'd better look for another job... _It didn't last long, for the beautiful face behind the cause was more than deserving enough for any consequence to sway him otherwise.

A smile.

"When do I start?"

* * *

"Good evening, Ueno residence." 

"Hello, may I speak to Nanami-san, please?"   
"This is she speaking."

"Um, Nanami-san, this is—"

"I know who you are, silly! I'm surprised you're calling me after all this talk I hear 'bout you making Ayako-chan cry—"

Groan.

"I know, I know... I was such a jerk... and what hurts even more, is that I can't turn back the clock to prevent myself from turning into the biggest asshole on the face of the earth."

Silence.

"Nanami-san?"

"... I'm here. It's just... she didn't sound like the happy Ayako-chan I know on the phone the other day."

Guilt.

"I just want to make it up to her... and I don't know how."

"So... I guess you're calling because you want me to help you?"

Demure.

"Yeah... I... I just need her back."

"Miyagi-kun, it's not like you've lost her already. She probably thinks that you don't want her 'cause you've been acting goofy—"

A grimace.

"I know, I know... and I'm really sorry."

"Hey, don't tell me, toots. Tell Ayako-chan that."

"But how? I can't exactly get a hold of her, on the phone or in person!"

"Hmph! Serves you right... but, I know you two don't deserve this friction."

Sigh.

"Me, neither... and the truth is, Nanami-san, my intentions _are_ really good."

A pause.

"...From the sound of your oh-so desperate voice, you sound sincere enough for me to believe those words... so, what can I do to help you?"

"Nanami-san, I need a super huge favor."

Grin.

"Hmm... it's gonna cost you."

Obstinate.

"Name your price."

A pause.

"State the circumstances first."

Nervous hesitation.

"Okay... it's... this is really complicated—"

Curious assurance.

"All collected information and transactions will be handled confidentially."

Surrender.

"All right, here it goes..."

* * *

She didn't know why she even bothered. 

Walking idly up and down the spice section of the grocery store, her eyes glanced blankly over the bottle labels and canned food, knowing exactly what she needed to get and which shelf to get it from and yet well aware that what she was truly searching for was the kind of spice that could not be bottled or bought in a store.

_God, if only it was _that_ easy..._

She was not an unreasonable woman; she always thought herself to be nice. As she took what she needed from the top shelf, she looked at the bottle's label. _Perhaps a little too nice._ So when it came to her parents' pleas to agree to all the men they've 'fortuitously' arranged for her to meet, she could all but say no. After all, the last time she refused to meet one of the men her parents seemingly plucked off from the bachelor pool generated an onslaught of parental soliloquies and crocodile tears, whining how they don't want their baby girl to miss the last train to marriage bliss. It was much easier to suffer an awkward hour of dinner with a complete stranger than to listen to her parents mourn her unmarried status.

_And I'm the one who has to go out on the dates, not them!_

Placing the bottle of spice in the hand basket, she heaved a sigh and walked over to the produce section. It wasn't like she was in dire need to find someone. Sure, it would be nice... She figured love would eventually find her, but it seemed like only disappointment managed to knock on her door. And that was what concerned her: if it was going to be like this when she's disinterested, will it be even more difficult to meet someone decent when she happens to be interested? And must her dear parents always blurt out the fact that she caters luncheons for businesses with deep pockets?

_Why do they have to push the suggestion on the guy to sample some of my 'culinary masterpieces'? _

She made a sour face. They make her sound so desperate... perhaps even a little depraved.

Staring blankly at a mountain of cucumbers and zucchinis, she sighed yet again. She knew her date that evening would end just like all the others: an ersatz smile with a formal handshake goodbye, a politely sounding and watertight excuse not to have coffee after dinner so as not to prolong the torture, inexpressible relief at another disappointing date's departure.

So much agony for a little parental esteem.

Shaking her head, she reached for a stray cucumber lost in a pile of butter squash when she felt the gentle nudge of a shopping cart against her hip.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, young lady," the old man excused, pulling the cart in reverse. "Pardon this old one with bad eyesight."

She welcomed the distraction. "It's all right," she said with a small smile, plucking the cucumber from among its brightly colored neighbors. "I guess I shouldn't make a habit of staring at vegetables." She blinked at the vegetable in her hand before offering it to him. "Cucumber?"

He laughed. "As a matter of fact, I'm going to need about a hundred."

"A hundred?! Do you own a restaurant or something?" she asked with a bated breath, handing the cucumber to the old man who gladly placed it in a plastic bag.

"I sure do! Young lady, I'm beginning to think that you're some kind of psychic... tell me, what else am I thinking of at this moment?"

Rolling her eyes and shrugging, she blurted out, "You... need someone to help you pick the cucumbers?"

The old man snickered. "You're a little off, but hey! What a good idea!"

Her little shopping errand took an unexpected turn that early afternoon, and although she knew that this pleasant exchange would be short-lived, she reveled in the fact that someone was able to make her smile despite of her inevitable circumstances. As she helped the grey-haired man move the mountain of cucumbers into his shopping cart, she thought of how liberating it would be to peel the skin off the elliptical greens, to pare her frustrations away, to escape the boring clutches of the evening to follow, peel after cool peel...

"Oji-san, I was wondering... do you by any chance need help in preparing these cucumbers?"

* * *

Not since his college basketball days, he had forgotten what it was like to be so tired. 

Turning off the shower, Mitsui could barely bring his leg up to step over the bathtub, his muscles were so fatigued. He grabbed the towel he was given earlier by Reiko and dried himself off, thought about sinking in the huge tub next to the shower full of hot water, then quickly dismissed the idea. He knew he would more likely fall asleep in it and turn into a prune. A tired smile crossed his face. How cool would that look to his gracious host? Mitsui slowly trudged out of the huge bathroom and into Hideki's bedroom, grimacing as he put his trousers on, his arms shaking in fatigue as he slid his arms through his shirt sleeves.

_I am going to be so sore tomorrow._

His endurance was tested earlier that day on the laboratory grounds, Fuji and the fully recuperated Miller running him ragged all over. Just when he thought he was going to pass out, two of the lab coats ran onto the field and gave him a weird drink that tasted so good, he swallowed every bit to the last drop. Two minutes after resuming his run, Mitsui was surprised to feel energized; he was able to keep up with the guards for the rest of the run. He was literally jumping through hoops, the guards making him sprint for a number of yards before spearing through the hoops, his first few landings on the mats harsh and clumsy. He finally got the hang of it after the next few tries. After that acrobatic drill, he was given a few minutes to catch his breath. Never did he think that he'd end up being a human basketball going through a hoop. Mitsui nearly laughed. It was a good thing it wasn't netted.

As inviting as the bed looked to him, the shooting guard trudged over to Reiko's door, and before he could knock, he noticed a note in the form of an origami fish affixed just above the doorknob.

"_Mitsui-san—_

_I am in the basement. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask the guards. _

– _Reiko"_

He heard a bark from below, and Reiko's pet eagerly tilted its head at Mitsui, prompting the shooting guard to descend down the stairs with another cheery bark.

"What's up, little guy?" he playfully asked, following the dog down to the basement, the static whir of electricity and water pumps filling the expanse of the room. Greeting Miller who sat behind the control board, Mitsui stood next to where he sat, the corgi choosing to sit a few feet away from where its master floated in the immersion chamber's pinkish waters. To a dog, seeing a woman clad in a two-piece bikini swimsuit is nothing out of the ordinary. To Mitsui, it was enough to make him look down in coy deference. It wasn't like he had never seen her in such state of dress; in fact, he had seen a glimpse of her naked skin and even bathed her once before... so why was he feeling like a peeping tom? Letting out a quiet sigh, he turned his attention to Miller's voice.

"You feeling okay? You must be pretty tired," said the guard as he adjusted several dials on the control panel.

Mitsui bent his head to the side and grabbed at the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. "Today just proved just how out of shape I am."

Miller shrugged. "It didn't look like it to us after that drink they gave you," he commented, watching his charge wave at the man beside him. Mitsui returned the gesture.

"What was in that drink, anyway?"

The guard smirked. "If it's one of Yoshikawa-san's concoctions, you're better off not knowing. I wouldn't worry so much about it, though, if I were you. They're getting a massage therapist for you tomorrow morning."

Mitsui craned his head in confusion. "Huh? Why?"

Smiling at Reiko's watery somersault, Miller held up his hand to denote the five minutes she had remaining in the acrylic tank before addressing his companion. "You're working with us now, Mitsui-san, you have to be in top condition. You're going to be sore tomorrow, and the fastest way to reduce that is to strip the lactic acid build-up from your muscles and into your bloodstream." The young guard gave Mitsui a side glance. "I hope you don't object too much."

The shooting guard shook his head. "No, not at all... um... what time do they expect me at the lab tomorrow?"   
"Seven a.m. sharp."

Mitsui's eyes bugged out. "Yikes."

_I'm going to have to hustle on those plans tomorrow night. _

"What time is it?"

"Quarter past nine."

Miller felt a soft nudge against his ankle and found the dog leaning comfortably against him. "Poor little guy," he mumbled, getting the animal's attention with a whistle. "Come here, boy." Tapping against his thighs, the dog obediently jumped onto Miller's lap. With a pat on its head, the dog looked up at Mitsui and barked.

"You're a pretty good dog, aren't you?" he said, reaching down to scratch the corgi's neck.

"He definitely loves the attention."

Three fingers.

A moment of silence.

"Miller-san... the last time I saw her in this tank, she was in a lot of pain afterwards. Is she going to be okay after she gets out?"

A nod.

"From what we've seen, she's had no side effects with the new substrate mix, other than the fact she's a little sleepy after the process. Being under very warm waters for half an hour can do that to you. Lately it's been nothing but magic for her whenever she gets out of the chamber."

Bark.

"Magic?"

A shrug.

"I really don't know, but it's like nothing happened to her. No pain. Nothing."

_Amazing... _

"But I think you being here has a big impact on the speed of her recovery... don't ask me how, but it does, and if something works, leave it be."

_And if I have to be here for the rest of my life for that to happen, so be it. _

"So... when she gets out of there, will her shoulder be all right?"

Miller pushed a few buttons before answering his mumbled query. "After they took her out of the chamber last night, they took an MRI of her shoulder, and to our surprise, all the trauma she received from her spar with Jackson didn't aggravate her injury at all. In fact, it even healed a little along with the recent injuries she received. This immersion process is really something."

Another glance at the clock.

"Do you need to be somewhere, Mitsui-san?"

Abashed.

"... Yes and no. I have some homework sent to me from the office. But... I don't really want to leave... not just yet."

It dawned upon the guard that Mitsui had not left Reiko's side since they were reunited, a little over two weeks had passed. Out of a whole day, he was with her on an average of a little over sixteen hours. "You're not getting reprimanded for missing work, are you?"   
Mitsui chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm still wondering why I haven't been fired."

Grinning, Miller placed his attention on the panting dog. "I do."

"What?"

"I meant, I do believe that it's time to get Nakamichi-dono out of the tank." Holding his index finger out for Reiko to see, Miller let the dog down and pressed a few buttons across the control panel. Mitsui could've sworn the guard meant something else by his reply, but wasn't given much time to speculate when Miller handed him a towel. "Could you help her out of the chamber? I've got to shut things down here."

"Sure thing."

* * *

An hour later, Mitsui fought hard not to fall asleep as he sat in the living room with the dog lounging lazily beside him on the couch. He nearly jumped at the vibrating sensation in his pocket. Taking out his cell phone, he answered the call. 

"This is Mitsui."

"Hey man, it's Akagi."

Tired grin.

"Shit, what a privilege! It's not often I get a call from a famous basketball player."

Shrug.

"Whatever. You'd be famous, too, had you signed onto a team like everyone expected you to do in the first place."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

"I just thought I'd see if you were still alive. I called your house and Ami-chan said you were with Reiko-san."

"As a matter of fact, I'm at her house."

Laugh.

"I really can't blame you... if I was in your shoes, I'd do the same thing."

Arched brow.

"Well, _are you_ in my shoes?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Akagi. I know about you and Nanami-san."

Embarrassed chuckle.

"Yeah, that... oh, speaking of Nanami, I—"

"Oh, on a first name basis now, are we?"

Sigh.

"Shut up, Mitsui. I need you to be serious for a minute—"

Mocking.

"Akagi and Nanami, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-"

"Mitsui!"

"When the hell were you going to tell me, Gori?"

"Mitsui, will you just listen for a damn minute? This is real important!"

"Okay, okay."

Deep breath.

"Look, Nanami told me that Miyagi needs help with a favor. He doesn't know we know, so keep it quiet."

"A favor?"

"Yeah, a huge one. Apparently he just made up with Ayako after a bad fight, and he wants Nanami to help him make it up to her."

"How bad was the fight?"   
"They haven't seen each other for days... nearly a week now."

_Ouch... _

"Considering Ayako is the air that Miyagi breathes, that's pretty bad... what can I do to help?"   
"Well, Nanami doesn't have a solid plan yet. All she knows is that it has to be something grand, you know, the kind of stunt that'd knock the socks off Ayako. Any ideas?"

"Hn... I'm not exactly a stunt guru for that sort of thing—"Mitsui cut off abruptly as soon as Reiko entered the living room, clad in pajamas and a towel around her shoulders, her combed wet hair infusing the room with a stimulating sweet floral scent. Her presence sparked an idea. "—But I know someone who is. Akagi, let me call you back."

"Sure, but don't leave me hanging."

Mitsui couldn't help but grin. "I'll call you back by tomorrow, 'kay?"

"'Kay. Later, man."

As Mitsui replaced the cell phone back in his pocket, Reiko took the seat beside him and caved into the softness of the couch. Her corgi didn't care if he trampled across the shooting guard's lap to get to its master, using it as leverage to gain access to her loving pats on its head. Before Mitsui could object, a tired sigh escaped Reiko's lips. He mimicked her posture.

"Sounds like you had a long day, too, Reiko-san," he remarked, his hand absently petting the content dog. "How do you feel?"

She closed her eyes. "Pleasantly tired."

"I never thought to describe exhaustion that way... how's your shoulder?"

"Miraculously better. It doesn't hurt one bit."

Mitsui turned his head to look at her in awe. Miller was right – it was like she was born again, baptized under the warm currents of electricity and ionized water, her body ready to take another onslaught of physical torture. However, underneath that renewable shell was a fragile spirit that was much slower to heal, one that Mitsui had hoped he could reach and tend to himself. As he sat there with her fingers twining with his, he wondered if anything he did would ever lessen the hurt.

"Thank you for waiting for me."

"No prob... it's not like my legs could take me far, anyway. They're shaking with fatigue... and besides, I would've stayed even if you kicked me out."

She laughed at him and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Oh? Would you have lingered outside then and whined like a chastised dog?"

"More like howled and clawed at your door like a hungry wolf."

Reiko was amused. "I admire your determination, Mitsui-san."

Mitsui took in the clean scent about him, casting a side glance at her. If she could see inside his head, she would be quick to describe this twisted persistence by another term: obsession. He suddenly felt very warm.

"I heard you had a grueling day today. Please tell me, were they too hard on you?"

The shooting guard shook his head. "Not really... I ran, ran some more, then I took a little break, ran again... then I jumped through some hoops—"

"You mean you shot some hoops," she said, the dog jumping off and lounging on the floor.

He gave her hand a light squeeze and laughed. "No, I mean I really jumped through hoops, like those poodles in the circus."

Reiko giggled through her nose. "I am surprised they didn't start you on the wires first."

Mitsui turned his head to her. "What wires?"

Mischief crossed her face. "Perhaps I should just let you find out for yourself."

For some reason, all weariness left the shooting guard and curiosity surged throughout him in the form of a wide, puckish sneer, keeping in mind what she had told him earlier about her shoulder. "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?" he said, his grasp against her hand growing firm as he began to pull her toward him.

Gasping, she tried to pull back, sheepishly trying to hide the sprightly grin that nearly disappeared in surprise when Mitsui took advantage of her opposing force and pushed her down onto the couch completely. Not wanting her to misinterpret his actions, he reached for the sides of her ribcage and tickled the laughter out of her.

"No, stop!" she pleaded between peals of laughter, her defenses no match for his rapid fingers that flew over her sides.

"So, are you going to tell me," he coolly asked, enjoying the side-splitting torture he rained down on her, "or should I go on?"

It was hard for her to reply, only the sound of bubbly laughter escaping her slender throat, pleas to end the assault mingling with every labored breath. It was all Mitsui could do to restrain himself from covering those soft lips with his own, the swiftness of his hands slowing to the lightest touch against her lean torso. Her gratitude came in long, deep breaths, her long, damp tresses spread carelessly around her, a few giggles welling up from her as she wiped the wetness from the corners of her eyes.

_So blue..._

Mitsui didn't realize until he heard the sound of her steady breathing that he had inched so close to her face. He was transfixed by her curious gaze, blue orbs studying the handsome lines of his visage, his eyes closing when her fingers made contact with his jaw. He could feel his skin sear with flushed heat.

"How did you get this scar, Mitsui-san?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the tips of her fingers tracing the mark just left of his chin.

Struggling for restraint, he sighed, entrapping the soft hand that touched him with his own. "I was in so many fights back in my gang days, I don't even remember..." He couldn't think straight anymore; being in the close proximity they were in, all he could feel was the thundering beat of his heart.

_Calm down, Mitsui..._

She smiled and cupped his chiseled jaw in her hands, placing a quick kiss on the scar that took Mitsui by surprise. "It might be too late now, but kissing wounds helps them heal faster." Chuckling, she added, "My mother told me that."

He cracked a grin. _I love Mrs. Nakamichi! _"I wish I'd have met you sooner when it was still healing, maybe then it wouldn't have left a scar." Taking her hands in his, Mitsui kissed them both before relinquishing them. _But I love her daughter even more. _She tilted her head at him in wonder, thinking that he had forgotten the motive behind the tickling interrogation. There was something past her beauty that made him want to hold her in his arms and kiss her breathless. He moved closer until he was merely centimeters away from her lips, her limpid eyes so deeply soulful he could drown in them.

Curious innocence.

"I have a confession to make..."

Blink.

"..."

A whisper.

"I am barely... just barely able to hold myself back... from taking your breath away."

A blush crept across her cheeks, a heated flush surged through her veins as she lowered her gaze to his mouth before meeting his intense gaze.

"... Oh..."

Unexpectedly, she slowly pressed her lips against his, eliciting an immediate reaction from the shooting guard to lock her in his embrace, his hands losing themselves in her damp, fragrant locks. This was heaven, and the world disappeared from Mitsui; every moment of misery he lived through in the past was worth this one ardent kiss, this one passionate caress. Several seconds later Reiko finally broke contact to catch her breath, blue eyes locking with brown in comfortable silence, his arms snug around her.

"Are you all right?" he asked hoarsely, his lungs finding the air.

With a nod, she leaned into his embrace. "I... am a little embarrassed, Mitsui-san."

"Why?"

"I... I'm not very good at... this."

_What? _

He smiled into her hair. "I wholeheartedly disagree." He pulled away to see the look of protest on her face and briefly planted a kiss on her lips before she could voice dissent. "The way you kiss me... makes me desire you even more." Mitsui could feel his arms shake, and whether it was from fatigue or yearning, he couldn't tell.

_Don't push too far... _

A coy grin tugged on her lips, unaware of the need for her that threatened to consume him altogether. "You are too kind with your words, Mitsui-san."

He groaned as he fought to dismiss images of her body glistening with sweat beneath him. "Believe me, this is the hardest I've ever been on myself." Closing his eyes, he resigned to nuzzling the crook of her neck, _anything _to distract him from completely devouring her.

_Control yourself... _

"Ah... I was wondering if you could help me," he said, taking a lungful of her floral scent.

"Certainly."

"Help me help a friend of mine." Mitsui inwardly sighed when she ran her hands through his thick hair.

_And stop me from turning into a wolf... _

"Do I know this friend of yours?"

Smile.

"Yes, as a matter fact. He's the one I sent to the hospital back in high school."

Wide eyes.

"Miyagi-san?"

A nod.

"He got into an argument with Ayako-chan and can't seem to think of a way to get himself out of the doghouse."

Silence.

"So, do you think you can bring yourself to plot with me and restore Ayako's favor back to Miyagi?"

Reiko stared blankly at the wall in thought, her eyes resting idly on the grandfather clock that was one minute away from chiming the hour. Quietly sighing, she inwardly smiled as his hand caressed her head, silently watching the seconds tick away. How easy it was to drift into tranquil musings within the safety of a warm embrace. When it finally sounded the hour, she drew a sharp breath in and excitedly pushed against a startled Mitsui.

"Mitsui-san, if I help, will I be permitted to do so with my method of choice?" she asked, her eyes bright with unspoken ideas. He chuckled, knowing that when she schemed, it was always grand.

"If it wins Ayako-chan back to the fold, I don't see why not."

"Then, allow me, if you will..."

* * *

Boarding a bus headed for Shibuya, a passenger paid the fare and took a seat by a window at the rear of the bus. A cell phone rang and she dug in her purse to answer the call, a bright white envelope falling out of it in her haste. 

"Hello?" she greeted, picking up the envelope from the floor board, her fingers skimming haphazardly against an embossed surface. "Yes, I'm on my way..." Scrutinizing the imprint, she flipped the envelope to see her name written in neat cursive font. "Uh-huh... yes, as a matter of fact I am holding it in my hand." Pausing to listen, she opened the envelope and pulled out what looked like an invitation on fancy, expensive card stock. Her eyes went wide with disbelief, her voice rising as she shouted into the phone.

"What? But I'm already on a bus to visit my sister in Shibuya!"

Other passengers wore a slight look of irritation on their faces as they threw a glance her way. Exasperation growing by the second, she finally hung up and bolted to her feet, her shrill voice shrieking from the top of her lungs.

"Stop the bus, it's an emergency!"

The bus lurched to a halt, confusing the passengers as they turned their heads to see a woman in a business suit running down the aisle, the heels of her dress shoes clacking loudly against the floorboard, her lips uttering a shaky thanks to the bus driver still recovering from her shrill protest. Hurriedly stepping onto the pavement, she weaved through the throng of people crowding the sidewalk, hoping that she'd catch the next train back to Kanagawa. She barely squeezed through the double doors of the packed car, and like a squirming sardine in a can full of business suits she struggled to reach for the cell phone that she hastily dropped in her purse as she ran to the station, her fingers flying with furious speed over the keypad as she mass emailed her former teammates.

Nanami fought hard to control the growing grin on her face as she read over the elegant print on the invitation once more. She didn't know how this person found out, but only the mind of a playful genius could come up with a grand scheme such as this.

* * *

"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice." 

A slender hand slid a cup of steaming tea across the table.

"It is good to see you again, Miyagi-san."

The point guard raised a bashful hand to the back of his head. "I—I got the invitation, and Nanami-san told me... I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am yet again. You don't know how much this means to me."

Her brows arched in surprise. "Yet again?"

Miyagi smiled at the fact that she forgot. Just how many other people has she blindly helped in the past? "You don't remember? The time you whisked Aya-chan and me away on your yacht?"

Recollection turned up her lips into a soft smile, the thought of brightly colored flares of fireworks lighting the night sky vividly playing in her mind, Mitsui's warm voice ringing softly in her ears. "Ah, yes... I had hoped you both enjoyed that evening."

He turned his eyes to look down into his teacup. "God, that was like a dream anniversary date come true for me... and... I'm hoping that there will be... many more." He hurriedly took a sip of the pale green brew, his hasty manner plucking a string of curiosity in Reiko's observant eyes. There was something clearly perturbing the point guard's usually lighthearted attitude.

"Is there something you... wish to discuss, Miyagi-san?" she politely prodded, noting the deep breath of air he took, as if he was being stifled by the very question.

"The truth of the matter is..." his voice trembled, "I'm so friggin' scared, I don't know what to do."

She stiffened at his words. "Are you in any danger, Miyagi-san?" she asked softly, the furrow on her brow something of a rarity for the point guard to see.

"... No, it's not anything like that. It's just... this is the rest of my life I'm dealing with..."

Puzzlement.

"I do not understand."

Miyagi heaved a sigh, his eyes gazing distractedly at the stormy curls of steam rising from his cup. "There's something that I didn't tell Nanami-san, or anyone else for that matter... but... before I tell you... um... do you have anything stronger for me to drink?"

Reiko's eyes slightly widened in astonishment. "Like alcohol?"

"If you have gasoline, that would be even better."

She let a small smile tug on her lips. "And if I supply you with this... _fuel_, will it lessen the burden of telling me?"

Miyagi laughed as he shook his head in resignation, his flippant attitude somewhat waxing on his face. "It'll sure burn some of it off me."

He knew that somehow, one way or another, he was going to have to tell somebody about it. Why not the person who was going to be the master mind and benefactor of this whole affair? He nodded when Reiko left to fetch something from the bar and brought a shot glass and a bottle of mandarin vodka. When asked if her choice of beverage would do, he smiled and stifled a laugh, for it didn't really matter what she chose for him to get to talking. Liquor was liquor, and several ounces of it always made good truth serum, every ounce an essence of liquid courage. He downed the shot she poured as soon as she gave him the shot glass, and by the second shot, the point guard took a deep breath, collected himself and began to talk.

* * *

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for this, Nakamichi-dono." 

Miller stood wide-eyed and all smiles at the shiny new superbike that stood suspended on a bike stand, his charge a couple of steps behind him. The young guard knew there was something amiss when none of the guards accompanied him to the gates when the delivery truck came by. For all he knew, all three of them could be watching the dazed look on his face, his eyes gazing lovingly at the smooth and shimmering lines of the bike's metal frame.

"I do apologize again for wrecking the first one I gave you... I hope this makes up for it."

Miller craned his head over his shoulder and beamed at her. "The one you gave me before was already awesome, but this," he said, his eyes returning to the bullet with a seat, "This is so much better than what I imagined!"

"Mr. Miller, I thought you were being paid more than enough to be able to purchase something like this," she commented, an elfish grin raking over her lips.

He chuckled. "Well, I am, but it's not like I can help the others protect you with something so fast like this."

Reiko's eyes crinkled with laughter. "Do you think you can still put it to good use?"

He chuckled as he slowly shook his head. "If I had the time and a race track, maybe," he said in jest.

She stepped forward to touch the seat of the bike, a moment of recollection flashed before her mind's eye as she remembered rain pelting against her cold skin. She quickly blinked her eyes. "And... suppose you had all the time and a race track, would you ride like you did in college?"

The light in Miller's eyes was suddenly snuffed, her suggestion bringing an ominous feeling to his chest. "Wh—just what exactly are you telling me, Nakamichi-dono?"

She averted her eyes from his troubled gaze and skimmed her fingers over the smooth surface of the seat. Miller didn't like the pause she gave him, and after a moment of hesitation, his jaw was set with dejection.

"Have I done something wrong?"

Her head quickly tilted up at the question. He had misinterpreted her intentions. "No—"

"Am I being fired?"

A look of horror crossed over her features and she quickly shook her head, her tongue failing to utter objection.

"... I get it. This is a test, then?"

"No—"

Miller stiffened and met her blue-grey eyes straight on. "When he was still alive, my father once told me that because your uncle helped save my mother's life, our family would be forever indebted to yours. And when Dad lost his life in trying to repay this debt, he saved my mother yet again from the nervous collapse she suffered."

"Mr. Miller, this is not—"

"I'm not serving you now because I feel like my family has another debt to pay. I'm here because I know what honor and loyalty are, and I know what it's like to survive through tragedy, with your own blood to see you through it... You... you guys saved me from being a complete orphan—"

Reiko reached over the bike to silence the words pouring forth the guard's mouth.

"Donnez-moi une minute, s'il vous plaît."

Miller rapidly recollected himself and showed the proper decorum, quietly reproaching himself for his lack of politesse. Watching her retract her hand from his lips, he waited for the words of reprimand to fly at him.

"From the start, I had neither doubt nor explanation for your loyalty and devotion to your work, Mr. Miller. I merely wanted to replace the motorcycle I took from you without permission."

"But you weren't yourself, it wasn't your fault—"

"S'il vous plaît." The look she gave him was enough to pry a small apology for his interruption.

"Mr. Miller... I know you gave up your passion for racing to serve as sentry for me... and I am also aware that you were the kind of competitor who performed like a champion. Was the compensation given to you in the past not enough to provide you with enough to allow you to continue racing?"

"... Yes, but..."

"I would like... that is... I just want to know why you chose to serve... why you continue to stay."

Miller took a deep breath and sighed. "The truth is... that I... I didn't want you to be alone... because I knew how you felt... and... because I wanted you to have someone see you through it all, as I did." The young guard could hardly stand the weight of her gaze, the hue of her eyes transforming into clearer, bluer pools of innocence lost.

"It's only natural to pity such circumstances, Mr. Miller."

"This isn't about pity, Nakamichi-dono. This is... this is more like a tie that binds us. You've become some kind of crutch for me all these years, seeing you stand on your own... you're a survivor, just like me and the others, only you are much, much stronger... and vulnerable at the same time. I just thought that... maybe I'd be here, if you ever needed a crutch... because it's tough to have to go through it alone."

Reiko's eyes looked down at the front wheel of the vehicle and didn't know whether to be happy or sad. "You and the others... you are all what's left of my family... and though I am happy to have your sympathy, I cannot help but feel responsible for holding you back from what you have always wanted to do."

It finally made sense now to Miller. She wasn't trying to fire him. She was trying to free him from the bonds of obligation. "I see what you're saying, Nakamichi-dono, and please accept my humble apology. I just thought I wasn't needed anymore... I guess I panicked."

Looking up, she tried to give him a smile. He softened.

"And you're not holding me back, not by a long shot. I chose to stay partly because I think this is more important... and partly because I don't want to give my mother a heart attack every time I fly down the track. I'm better off on solid ground."

He felt better when she grinned genuinely at him, her hand resting once more on the seat of the motorcycle.

A pause.

"Should I have them take this back then?" she suggested, tapping on the seat. "I would not wish to have your mother worry about you on my account."

Miller shrugged. "You could, but that still wouldn't stop her from worrying about me."

A comfortable silence descended upon them, both savoring a quiet moment of mutual understanding.

"I am sorry for hurting you before, Mr. Miller."

A wave.

"No big deal. I don't even remember getting hurt."

"...Really?"

"Okay, maybe I do, but I guess what I meant to say is that it doesn't hurt anymore. And that's the honest truth."

Belief.

"... I do suppose returning the motorcycle would be too much of a bother, and it _would_ be a shame for me not to see you ride this steel steed as skillfully as I have seen you do on those videos."

"What videos?"

Reiko let a grin escape as she rolled her eyes. "The ones I happened to stumble upon."

Miller grimaced. "That punk Fuji... what else did he show you?"

"Would you really like to know?"

A look of horror crossed the guard's face. "I think in this case, ignorance is bliss."

Guard and charge walked side by side towards the back entrance of the large estate, Reiko laughing as Miller grumbled promises to give Fuji a swift kick in the derrière. Across the lawn, her pet corgi barked and bounded to greet them, excited to finally see people up and about from its lazy lookout on the servants' house porch. Bending down to pet the dog, Reiko tilted her head up at his smiling guard.

"Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Miller."

He beamed.

"Thanks for the bike."

"Do you think one day you can show me how phenomenally you can ride your new toy?"

"Only if you can keep whatever else Fuji showed you a secret."

"How could you keep such dancing talent a secret?"

Expletive.

"Fuji is _**so** _dead... excusez-moi, mademoiselle. Mon français est horrible aujourd'hui."

Laughter.

"Before I go inside, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Sure. And if it includes a plot to mercilessly humiliate Fuji to tears, that would make my day even better."

* * *

It was the end of another good day for Sakuragi and he couldn't stop smiling. Haruko didn't have to poke him awake through the classes they had together, and practice went rather well. Humming as he opened the front door, he headed straight for the refrigerator and proceeded to raid its contents of food. Much to his glee, he found a plastic wrapped plate of lasagna with a note stuck to it. 

"_Won't be back till late, have to prepare for an audit tomorrow._

_Be good and study._

--  _Mom"_

His smile turned into a frown. Audits usually meant his mother would come home too late and too tired to cook a snack for him or herself, and he doubted that the plate of lasagna would tide him over for the rest of the night. After all, Mrs. Sakuragi mother said it so herself: big boys always have guts running on empty. She probably didn't expect her son to grow so big. Heaving a sigh, he removed the plastic wrap and nuked the food in the microwave. He knew that at some point that evening he was going to get the munchies, and with his allowance nearly exhausted, ordering pizza would be out of the question. Sulking, he stared at the food turning round and round in the microwave.

_Hard times, brother... hard times... _

As he waited for the food, he took a seat at the dinner table, his eyes casting bored glances around the kitchen. Finally gazing down the table, he saw an envelope with his name elegantly written in Romanized letters. Squinting in thought, he inspected the envelope before opening it, the fancy stationery bearing no name of its sender. _What could this be?_ Shrugging, he tore the short edge of the envelope and pulled out its contents, his eyes scanning over the printed words before springing suddenly to his feet.

* * *

It had been raining for a week straight now, and the downpour didn't look like it would let up soon. The gutters were near to overflowing as the runoff water hurtled down the mouths of the sewer canals. Not caring for his soaked clothes or his lack of an umbrella at such saturating weather, Miyagi never took his eyes off the light coming from the right bedroom window of the two-story house across the street from where he stood. _How long will that light stay on_, he thought, wiping the droplets of rain that trickled down his face, the darkness of night cloaking his surroundings. He knows how long it has been on; he'd been standing out in the rain for nearly six hours now. 

The first time he called her on the phone, she answered. At the sound of his voice, he heard the abrupt click of the other line hanging up. The second time he called her, her mother answered, her voice hesitant and confused, stuttering a quick excuse that her daughter was not feeling so well. In the background, he could've sworn he heard the sound of crying. It had been nearly three hours since then. There, under the pelting rain, he decided that there would be no third phone call.

Swift on his feet, the nimble point guard managed to climb over the neighboring wall, balancing himself on it as he walked to Ayako's bedroom window, still lit at that late hour. Grasping its base, he gave the window a forceful push upward and gracelessly let himself in, droplets of water splashing everywhere as he heard a frightened gasp from the occupant of the room.

"Ryota!" she exclaimed, her hand quickly flying over her mouth as her eyes furtively glanced at her bedroom door. The point guard was welcomed as family in her parents' household, but Miyagi breaking and entering into their daughter's bedroom and through the window no less would certainly incur parental disapproval. "What are you doing here?" she hissed as she sat up in her bed. "Good grief, you're soaking wet!"

Miyagi watched her get up to take the towel that hung on a hook behind her door, her cheeks betraying a damp sheen under the soft yellow light. One would think that she would've thrown him back out the window after his startling intrusion, and yet here she was drying his rain soaked curls clinging messily against his skin.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Ryota?" she whispered, her defeated tone surprisingly soft. His hand caught hers as she continued to dry his curly mane.

"Yes, I know what time it is," he replied gravelly, his eyes piercing through hers. "It's time for me to find out why you've been ignoring me."

A look of incredulity crossed Ayako's face. "Ignoring you? You're the one who's been ignoring me! How dare you accuse me of something you're guilty of!"

Miyagi sighed defensively. "Look, Aya-chan, it's not what you think! I just... I just need to..."

Ayako wriggled her hand away from his clutch, tears threatening to spill once more. "Even after you risked breaking your neck to get in here, you still can't tell me what's bothering you..." Walking to her closet, she took out a folded shirt from the top shelf, not caring if he saw her crying openly. Running her fingers over the fabric of the shirt, her voice choked with unrepressed emotion. "I know what's going on, Ryota... and... you know what's sad? I kind of saw it coming."

Miyagi was puzzled. "You knew I was gonna come through the window?"   
Ayako couldn't find the humor in his words, irritation replacing the sadness that consumed her. Thrusting the shirt at him, he mechanically took it and watched her back turn toward him. "Let's just make this a clean break, Ryota... I can't bear to watch you look at me like I'm some kind of ill person."

_Break?!_

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"Isn't that why it's been so hard for you to look at me, to even talk to me? You probably feel like we see too much of each other—"

"No, that's not it!" Miyagi cut in, taking a step toward her. "That's not it at all!"

She swung around with the most wounded look the point guard ever saw on his girlfriend's pretty face. "Then what is it?"

Miyagi opened his mouth but nothing came out. Ayako sniffed as she wiped the tears that wouldn't stop falling. He reached out to touch her face, surprised at her flinching away from his hand. "Aya-chan, I... please understand, I'm not really at liberty to tell you right now... and I _do not_ _want_ to break up with you! God, I would rather get hit by a speeding Mack truck before I let the very idea enter my mind!"

Ayako didn't know what else to say, her gaze turned aside. She was confused with all the secrecy, yet relief flooded her at the fact that their relationship wasn't about to hit rock bottom. _So where is it headed?_ She was about to prod him with this and more when Miyagi closed the space between them in a tender embrace, wondering when he replaced his wet shirt with the dry one she offered.

"For the next few minutes, please just let me hold you and listen to what I have to say."

Acquiescence.

"From the moment I saw you, I knew in my gut that you'd be easy to get out of my mind as it is getting blood from a stone... I had it bad... and when you agree to be my girlfriend, my heart just about skyrocketed to the moon. Did I ever tell you about that?"

A shake of the head.

Sheepish grin.

"I couldn't eat without grinning with every bite. I went to bed wide-eyed with awe. During basketball practice, I didn't care how many grueling drills Coach made us do or how many sprints I had to run. I knew you were there, I knew you'd be watching, and a tiny, ecstatic voice would sing in my head, 'she's _my_ girlfriend!'... it was hard for me to believe that my dreams were finally coming true."

A small smile.

"I know it sounds pretty lame, but that's why I worked so hard on the court... even before we started dating, all I ever wanted was for you to notice me. And when I finally had your attention, I never wanted to lose it... So when you ran away that afternoon in the rain, something inside me froze, like I fell into a lake in the dead of winter and I couldn't move to save myself."

Pause.

"You wouldn't talk to me, you wouldn't answer my calls... when I shot hoops with the guys to take my mind off things, Sakuragi would foul me on the court every chance he got... he told me I shouldn't make girls cry. I knew that rainy afternoon I messed up then, I couldn't stop thinking about it... but the magnitude of my stupidity really kicked me in the face when someone else knew just how much I fucked up... I was afraid my dreams were coming to an end. Sorry... I know I promised I'd cut down on profanity."

Silent pardon.

"Aya-chan, I'm so sorry for acting so different around you lately... I... please give me a little more time... I can't really discuss it with you right now, not just yet—"

_Time?_

"But I need you to know that you're the only reason why I work so hard in everything I do. If I have your smile, if I can hear you laugh... if I can keep the privilege of holding you like this, I am the happiest man alive. It doesn't matter if I've had a bad day and everything at work blows up in my face... those things become trivial compared to what I really have with you. I said I had it bad for you, and if you hadn't figured it out yet, I still do... I love you, Aya-chan. Please forgive me for being a stammering idiot..."

Ayako could only nod at his request, not really wanting to spoil the rich sincerity of his words still ringing in her ears. At this point, she could care less if Miyagi vacillated or had an insidious onset of severe speech impediment; as long as he was true to his word, nothing else mattered. _Stutter away..._

"You know," she sniffled, using the fresh shirt he now wore as a handkerchief to dry what was left of her tears, "for someone who couldn't explain himself before, you were pretty eloquent just now."

The point guard's hand lost itself in thick locks of her hair as he pulled her closer against him. "Fancy that... I guess miracles never cease."

The two laughed at the folly they got themselves tangled in, and the rest of the night was spent in sharing what they had not talked about since their communication hiatus. It would be in the wee hours of the morning before Ayako fell asleep; she waited for Miyagi's clothes to dry in the dryer, and for the time being, she had given him her bathrobe to wear. While he slept on the floor, Ayako chanced to take her small digital camera out of her desk drawer. She would never again get the chance to capture her snoring boyfriend wearing a pink bathrobe, Hello Kitty nonetheless.

Holding her laughter in, she took the picture. It would make good blackmail material in the future.

* * *

Looking up from his glass cleaning chore behind the bar, Yoshi smiled as Reiko and her guards walked through the French doors of the restaurant. He waited a few more seconds before she finally found him behind the bar, mumbling a quiet excuse to her guards before approaching the old man with a wily smile that alerted him of mischief. 

"If I didn't know any better, young lady, I'd think you were up to something," he said, grinning as he looked down at the glass in his hands. She looked surprised.

"Am I that predictable?"

The old man shook his head. "No, dear. You just reminded me of that look on your face when you were a little girl, that time when you snuck up to me and begged me to spike your brother's dessert with laxative."

A sour frown crossed her face before finally breaking into a grin. "Hideki nii-chan played a trick on me... told me that the watermelon seeds I swallowed on accident would germinate and grow within me, and that I would have tendrils of leaves coming out of my ears."

The proprietor was amused. "So that was what it was, revenge! Tsk, tsk! You were a naughty little girl!"

Demure eyes of sapphire looked down on the marble surface of the bar as she drummed her fingers against its cool surface.

"Oh, don't look so down. I was rotten enough to go along with the whole idea. Everyone's entitled to their small moments of vindication." Yoshi placed the streak-free glass on a shelf above the bar. "So tell me... what can this old goat get you and the others for lunch?"

She hesitated a moment before voicing her request, and when he went into the kitchen to prepare her meal, he was astonished to find himself followed. After a few minutes of quiet, earnest discussion, he nodded with understanding and shortly rounded up the help in the kitchen for a brief meeting after she left to rejoin her guards at a table facing the lake. Upon taking her seat, the men took out their PDAs and began going over what was to be done in the next thirty-six hours.

"I received a call from Nanami-san, she said that every one else was informed, and that most of those on the list have received their invitations."

"I spoke to the concierge of the hotel, they said outside catering was no problem," reported Sakai, pointing his stylus against the PDA screen. "They are arranging the banquet hall as we speak."

"Now that you've brought that up, we need to make a final sweep of the security before people file into the hall," Jackson advised as he leaned his elbows on the table. "Fuji's got the rear entrance—"

"Aw, man! Why am I always at the butt of all security checks?" whined Fuji, leaning back in his seat with an eight-year-old pout on his face.

"Because you're good at being an ass," Miller deadpanned. His young colleague merely crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue, drawing out chuckles round the table.

"Sakai's got the west wing, Miller the east, and I'll be at the front entrance."

"Wait, who's going to be with Nakamichi-dono?" asked Sakai.

"Why, Mitsui-san, of course!"

Reiko stole a demure glance at Fuji as she grinned.

"All right, then. Have you men decided who will do what before then?"

"I'll help Yoshi-san with the catering delivery."

"I'll round up the guys at Studio One."

"I'll shuttle the dolls to the hotel," proclaimed Fuji as he beamed at Reiko, earning him a bigger grin.

"Good. I'll drive Nakamichi-dono from the lab to the hotel. Let's make sure that all electronic devices are working properly, all batteries fully charged, and all escape routes clear should we have to use them."

The proprietor of the restaurant along with another waiter interrupted momentarily as they brought plates of food to their table, the old man and his helper hailed with thanks before Jackson continued.

"Nakamichi-dono," addressed the large guard in a softer timbre, "you'll be going to through a lot today, and we still have to get Yoshikawa-san's clearance before tomorrow's event..." He waited for her to finish chewing her first bite, watching her swallow and wipe the corners of her mouth. She nodded understandingly.

"I am to adhere strictly to the instruction of alerting any of you should I feel even an inkling of malaise."

Jackson's face hardened into mock sternness. "All right you guys, you all heard that. So no going back on your word, okay? I have witnesses," he told her with a quick wink.

Reiko agreed and beamed at him and the other guards before twirling her fork into the bed of pasta before her. Placing the fork in her mouth, she felt as if she was in a surreal world; the guards have been less and less reserved and she found this casual air about them comforting, pleased at the fact that there was no longer a wall of diffidence between her and the men. She enjoyed Fuji and Miller's usual bickering over the dinner table, with the older guards laughing quietly at the two pups fighting. Taking a sip of her drink, she stole a glance at the lake, its waters calm and unperturbed. In the setting she was in, an odd sense of warmth bound her heart with distant familiarity, as if she was reliving a scene from long ago, but this time, the characters were different. When she saw Miller's crimson reaction to Fuji's 'lord of the dance' taunts, she joined in the laughter, quickly apologizing to Miller for the outburst. As the guard sulked in his seat, Reiko was silently relieved at the thought that this party of four cared for her and respected each other in ways she never expected them to beyond duty.

_Like family._

She shot another look out the window at the lake, quietly thanking her uncle and the good Lord above for surrounding her with kind people. The older guards didn't fail to notice the faint smile half obscured by her turned head, Sakai contently chewing on a forkful of pasta as he cast a side glance at Jackson. In his gut, they both knew that this was only the beginning of a new existence for their charge, and with her beau by her side, the hard road to recovery would undoubtedly be much easier for her. Sakai grinned. In the past it had just been a silent notion, but now it was slowly becoming a reality: Jackson's intuition was right on the money when it came to Mitsui. As the younger guards exchanged more empty threats over the dinner table, Sakai sat back in his seat in cozy rumination.

They've done all they can. It's now all up to Mitsui.

* * *

"I wonder what's holding him up. He's usually at the lab before you even finish your initial check-ups." 

Pause.

"He may be a little exhausted from the last training exercise, Fuji-san."

A grin.

"I'm surprised he was able to move the way he did this afternoon... I guess that massage helped him out a lot."

Red light.

"Fuji-san... do you think Mitsui-san might tire of this?"   
Pedestrian crossing.

Side glance.

"Perhaps a little on a physical level... but a little exercise never hurt anybody."

A pensive moment.   
"And beyond that?"   
Green light.

"My honest opinion?"   
A nod.

Acceleration.

"It wouldn't matter how much he toils or how tired he gets. He will do everything just to be with you."

Silence.

Right turn.

"You seem uneasy, Nakamichi-dono."

Shadow of a doubt.

"It... it doesn't seem fair to him, how he does so much for me... I left him bereft of explanation or assurance all those years ago, and he was left alone."

Four-way stop.

"So were you."

Cross traffic.

"I suppose..."

A quiet sigh.

"I've always admired this about you, Nakamichi-dono, and I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

Acceleration.

"The way you stay so humble. Perhaps too humble."

"What do you mean?"   
Lane change.

"I think we both know that you deserve some form of happiness in this life, especially with all that's happened."

Attention.

"And having that happiness is what keeps people sane, you know... it's what they live for. And yet you keep deferring it like you're not worthy of it."

Reticence.

"So please be a little easy on yourself and recognize that what Mitsui-san goes through out there on the field is not just for you, it's for himself as well. He just wants to be happy by being with you. I know you'd be happy just as well if you let him do just that. So try not to think about fairness. Nothing is fair in love. Once you love someone, it doesn't matter who loves the other more. You can't really measure that kind of thing. It's enough to love someone, and that's all that matters."

Reiko turned her head at the young guard as he turned left into a subdivision, the vehicle slowing down as kids scurried across the street to retrieve a stray ball. She was surprised by his insight.

"Such wise words... do you speak from experience, Fuji-san?"

The driver smirked. "My father told me that a long time ago when I was head over heels in love with this girl back then."

Fuji rarely divulged private matters to her before, and this small declaration fed her curiosity. "And what happened?"

He shrugged. "It never got anywhere. Her attention was caught by something else."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that."

Fuji shook his head. "Nah, don't be. I got over it the next day."

_What miraculous recovery... _

"And besides, ten-year-olds don't really have lasting heartbreaks anyway. I can't compete with a machine, and I think I was just mainly interested in playing Atari games with her more than anything."

Reiko chuckled softly as he parked the car in front of Mitsui's house. "You really are quite amusing, Fuji-san."

He snickered. "That's what my mother tells me." He unfastened his safety belt and was about to open his door when she asked him to remain for a moment, and it took her a few seconds before she opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out. Scratching the back of his head, he tried to plumb what she wanted to say from her downcast eyes, uncertainty swirling about her as he looked into the orbs of blue and grey.

A knock on her window turned their attention to the tilted head of a girl, both hands cupping her temples to allow her a glimpse of the car's passenger past the dark tint of the window. Fuji got out of the car and greeted her, earning him a shy hello and an unsure look. The passenger door opened, and hesitation turned into excitement as Ami beamed at a smiling Reiko before flinging herself onto her.

"Reiko nee-chan!" she squealed in glee, hugging her with all her might. "It's so great to see you again!"

She returned the girl's embrace. "And it's wonderful to see you as well." Pulling away, she took a good look at her. "You have gotten so big! It seems you've grown a foot taller!"

Ami grinned. "It's the milk. Hey, come inside! I'm having a hard time waking Onii-chan up, he's passed out all over his blueprints."

Reiko's brows rose. "Blueprints?"

Ami took her hand and led her through the gate and into the house, Reiko casting a quick look back at Fuji who smiled back at her.

"Yeah, he's been working on them since he got back. A guy delivered them personally and they were kind of heavy... I had to carry scrolls and scrolls of them up to his room! And he wouldn't wake up for the dinner I _painstakingly_ made, so now I have to eat everything all by myself!"

Reiko couldn't help but grin at Mitsui's little sister. Her sunny personality was of something one would never tire. She led her up the stairs to Mitsui's room, where his hunched form leaned against the architect's desk by the window. Despite the light shining brightly against his chiseled face, he was out cold and impervious to Ami's hissing.

"Onii-chan, wake up!"

No response.

Ami cast an annoyed look at Reiko who only grinned in amusement.

"Onii-chan, dinner!"

Mumbles.

"Onii-chan, someone is here to see you!"

He shut his eyes even tighter and shook his head sleepily at Ami as he groaned. "No more blueprints... I'm not done with these yet... send them back..."

Ami blinked at her slumbering brother, his dreams undoubtedly haunting him with numbers, lines and calculations. She felt a hand against her shoulder and watched as Reiko brought an index finger to her lips. She was always eager and ready for mischief.

"How about I take over from here?" she offered, a smile stretching from ear to ear on Ami's face. Quietly, she left the two and headed for the kitchen.

Reiko took a good look around his room, and almost felt sorry for Mitsui when she saw several more blueprint scrolls on his bed. It finally dawned on her that all that time she was basking in his presence, he was sacrificing his obligations to his work and left scroll upon scroll of blueprints ignored. She stepped closer to his bent form over the desk, trying to peek at what he had been working on, nearly letting a giggle out when she heard Mitsui snore soundly against the desk. Looking closely, the frame of a large building was penciled on paper, panels of its roof arced in a succession of wave-like patterns, with several question marks pointing at each corner of the drawing. A wavy line descended from the middle of the paper down to where he had his pencil which still rested between his still fingers, no doubt evidence of Mitsui's exhaustion. Marveling at him for working to the point of collapse despite the tiring exercise he endured with her earlier that afternoon, Reiko slowly lifted the pencil from his grasp and quietly scribbled a few characters by each question mark, jolted suddenly by the shooting guard as he gradually pushed off the desk and sat up straight. Rubbing the drowsiness off his eyes, he blinked at the blueprint before him, quickly noticing a hand that moved away from the corner of the desk. Turning his head, his jaw grew slack at the sight of Reiko smiling softly at him.

"Happens every time," he said with a grin as he rubbed his eyes once more.

"What happens every time, Mitsui-san?"

_Huh?_

Eyes snapping open, he sat up rigidly, wide-eyed with shock. "Oh my God, Reiko-san!" he said in disbelief, his hand reaching out to touch her. She was there, in the flesh. He wasn't dreaming. "What are you doing here?"

Reiko replaced the pencil onto the desk and covered the hand that touched her forearm with her own. "I asked Fuji-san if I could come along to pick you up—"

"Crap, I totally forgot about tonight!" he exclaimed, his hand letting go of her. "I'm so sorry, Reiko-san... I just... it's just that I got a call from the office and they sent me all these blueprints and—"

She brought a finger to her pink lips and Mitsui abruptly silenced himself, watching with bated breath as she closed the gap between them in a light embrace. He tried to speak but was shushed before he could utter another word. He wasn't going to complain, and as he leaned into her, he couldn't help but think back to the countless nights he wished for her to appear before him out of his dreams as she had just now.

"You are exhausted, Mitsui-san," she said softly, her fingers losing themselves in the thickness of his hair. "Perhaps it is better for you to rest this evening."

"And miss being with you?" he retorted playfully as he looked up at her, wrapping her snug in his arms with no chance for escape. "I don't think so."

"I worry that you won't survive much more if you don't get your rest."

He sighed audibly as he coaxed her into sitting on his lap, still encircled by his strong arms. Reiko felt her cheeks warm at their close proximity; she hadn't sat on anyone's lap since she was a little girl, and Mitsui was nothing like her father.

"Now you know how _we_ feel whenever you push past your limits."

Reiko rested her chin guiltily against his shoulder.

A moment of bliss.

"You know, I could really get used to this," he said as he tightened his hold. She smiled and said nothing, only stroking the back of his head in acquiescence. She glanced at the blueprints all around them.

"You have so much work to do, Mitsui-san."

A grunt.

"And you need more sleep."

Shrug.

"Don't worry, I can always catch up on that later."

"And the blueprints?"

"They're not as important as you. They could fire me for all I care."

"It would be a big loss for your company to lose such a talented employee."

Mitsui laughed. "Well, as you can see, I am currently choosing to apply my talents to a more important project."

A grin.

"Perhaps I am a bad influence."

"If that's the case, corrupt me all you want."

She shook her head and sighed. "Can I make you a deal, then?"

"Uh-oh." Mitsui pushed off slightly and looked at her with cautious eyes, blue orbs blinking with puckish guile.

"If you agree to sleep for at least an hour, I will tell you a big secret. But you have to promise not to tell anybody. Do we have a deal?" she asked, her pinky finger held out for him to enter into contract. He hesitated and stared into her cerulean eyes.

"But I'm too excited to sleep," he whined. "There's no way I can fall asleep with you here."

"If I leave, will you sleep then?"

He smirked. "What makes you think you're leaving?" he challenged, tightening his hold around her like an anaconda coiled around its helpless prey.

"Please?" she entreated, turning the tables on Mitsui with those irresistible beseeching eyes of hers that made him frown in defeat.

"God, you're so good at doing that... okay, okay. I'll sleep." He entwined his finger around hers and she beamed with glee.

_I am the biggest sucker in the world. _

Moments later, Reiko emerged from the Hisashis' front door to find Ami and Fuji sitting together on the wooden bench by the rosebushes lining the walkway, the borders of their mouths tainted with bits of chocolate cake and frosting. They had just finished a plate of Ami's hard work and she explained that it would be a shame to let it go to waste, Fuji nodding sincerely as he placed the last forkful in his mouth before wiping his chops with the napkin Ami provided. Reiko couldn't help but smile. Fuji had made a new friend. While the young girl went back inside to deposit the used dishes in the sink, Fuji took a few moments and thought long and hard in answering his charge's question with sincere honesty.

* * *

Through a pair of double doors a streamlined figure in a grey bodysuit stepped into the blinding halogen lights illuminating the exercise field. Save her face, Reiko was covered with the light material, the breathable fabric hiding a number of electrode patches affixed to her chest, neck, and some on her scalp. She made sure her headset was snug against her skull, looking up at the viewing deck from where Yoshikawa and his team of researchers observed her every move. 

"Can you hear me, Nakamichi-dono?" a static voice asked.

She nodded. "Loud and clear, sir."

"Very good. Tonight's exercise is going to be a little different, so pace yourself."

Static.

"I will do my best."

Turning to the man behind the turntables, Yoshikawa signaled Yohei to start.

"Ladies and gentlemen, begin data collection."

As music filled the expanse of the lawn, individual voices began to recite vital statistics and readouts as Yoshikawa carefully watched the slow, fluid movements of their test subject as she went through the mandatory warm-up. Yohei made the lab coordinator proud as he intuitively modified the tempo of the music towards the end of the warm-up, mixing a new song that signaled the guards to make their appearance on the exercise field.

"Heart rate increasing at a normal and stable rate."

"Now collecting brain wave data."

Seeing the guards take their cue, he switched off Reiko's channel and privately addressed the men. "All right, men, here we go. Max two men at a time, you have twenty minutes until the red light comes on. Set the pace for her."

Chorus.

"Understood."

With that, two of the guards lunged at their ready charge. Fists clashed, kicks were blocked and punches flew, and Yoshikawa was impressed at the level of concentration on which Reiko placed herself, her ability to defend herself against two opponents meeting his expectation.

"Beta wave activity on the rise."

Sakai and Jackson stood in quiet observation as their younger colleagues swung into offensive action against their charge, noting that the technique Reiko now used was much more suited for defending from multiple assailants, one that Master Li had never taught any of them. And when Fuji fell to the ground gracelessly after a surprising blow to the thigh, Jackson couldn't help but flinch. That was the same move that took him down during their last sparring match. Minutes ticked by and Reiko's fatigue slowly began to show, allowing an occasional kick or sweep to get past her defenses. Sakai glanced at his watch.

"Two minutes, nineteen seconds left," buzzed Yoshikawa through their headsets.

After what seemed like an eternity to Reiko, she jumped away from the guards and allowed herself to get a lungful. As her throat burned for oxygen, the lab coats above meticulously watched at the data that scrolled through the screen.

"Pulse rate at one seventy-three and rising."

"Core temperature steady at one hundred one degrees."

Syncopated bass.

"Beta waves spilling over max threshold."

Red light.

Reiko clearly saw the light switch on from the viewing deck, expecting the changing of the guards on the field. When they rushed toward her instead with startling cries of attack, she was overcome by alarm as she defensively stood her ground, taking a deep breath as she prepared for the brunt of their hits.

Sympathetic discharge.

She never got the chance to feel their strikes as she was all of a sudden lifted off the ground, strong arms holding her securely as she swung in the air over the young guards' heads. For a moment she felt as though her spirit was soaring up to heaven, to meet those whose arms tenderly waited for her to come home. Gasping, she blinked. Perhaps she really was struck, struck so hard that it knocked the ghost out from her, sprouted wings and was now flying to heaven. Looking up, she for once was glad it wasn't as she thought.

A system of cables securely suspended the form-fitting body suit of Reiko's rescuer, stunned and amazed at the dexterity of the arms that plucked her from harm's way, now wrapping a dark corset-like material around her torso. She craned her head over her shoulder as she heard and felt several metallic clicks behind her back, the warm resounding timbre of her liberator's voice blending melodiously with the booming music in her ears as they swung weightlessly in the air.

"Mitsui Hisashi, at your service," he pronounced, the certitude in his voice instilling in her immediate comfort.

"How did you—"

"You wouldn't tell me about the wires, so I had them show me." He manipulated several buttons that maneuvered both of them through the air, the breeze against her face cooling her skin as they swung across the field. She squinted to look past the halogen light towers and spied the web-like silvery wisps of the wire cables that suspended both her and Mitsui, and as she cast her eyes down below to see the wide grins on her guards' faces, she felt Mitsui's voice reverberate against her as he held her close to his chest, eliciting within her a familiar emotion so tender, and yet so foreign. She could feel her heart race.

Tingling.

"Am I securely fastened?"

"Yes."

She returned her blue gaze to him.

"Then... you can let go now."

He smiled and said nothing, his hold on her persisting and his eyes meeting her gaze with untiring interest. Her eyes were most haunting when they were grey, most captivating when the glint of sapphires burned intensely within their depths, wild horses couldn't rip his gaze from her.

"So, Reiko-san... about that _big_ secret," he suggested as he slowly lowered them both to the ground, "I hope it's as good as you promised."

Their feet planted firmly on the ground, she found herself thunderstruck as she finally understood the emotion behind the tingling sensation she had long ignored, there in the middle of the lawn where the air around them carried the progressive notes of violins in concert with a heavenly soprano voice reminiscent of her sister that made her hairs stand on end.

One hundred fifty beats per minute.

"..."

"Reiko-san?"   
Blink.

"Yes...? Yes... very good, indeed."

It was Mitsui's turn to look at her with questioning eyes, her state of bewilderment somewhat confusing him. He was pretty sure that she knew about the wires before he did; she was the one who told him. Was she surprised because nobody told her they would use them tonight? He waited for her to volunteer more information, but she just stood gazing at him in quiet wonder, smiling tenderly at him.

_Home...

* * *

_

Floating quietly in the immersion chamber, watchful blue eyes blinked as Reiko nodded to for them to proceed with the current, Mitsui standing next to Yohei as the lab coats gathered round the three panels in the middle of the east wall. One of them calmly called out some statistics neither one of them really understood, and not until the group exploded into cheers did Mitsui's eyes leave the suspended body in the tank.

"What's going on, Yohei?" he asked, craning his head to look past the DJ's shoulder.

"Well, their heads aren't spinning like it did a couple of days back, so I guess that's a good thing." Yohei paused with a grin. "Shit, I never know if I'm spinning music that's gonna end in success or failure. Their faces look so scared and pathetic at the same time whenever something goes wrong."

Stealing a quick glance at Reiko, Mitsui sighed. "It's crazy, isn't it? The fact that it takes this many people to keep her alive."

Yohei took off the headphones that rested around his neck and shoulders and placed it on the turntable. "Yeah, and what's crazier is that most of these people aren't here for the pay like I am. They're here 'cause they wanna be here. See the guy behind Yoshikawa-san with the crew cut? Reiko-san's mother helped his parents get out of bankruptcy by buying out every kimono they had in their store. When word got out, people started putting in new orders for those old school threads. Everyone wanted what Japan's richest woman buying. The guy never forgot that, and he told me that when Dr. Nakamichi first started this project, he was the first guy to volunteer."

"Wow..."

"And those three by Sakai-san, the ones they call the 'cool orphans'," he said as he pointed them out to Mitsui, "they met Reiko-san's sister and brother in college. They were invited to every opera premiere Midori had, every sporting event Hideki was in, and the Nakamichis always had three more plates and three more presents under the tree for them during Christmas. They got the invites even before they learned that they had no family to go home to, and it was never an issue with them. One day they were on the way to a stadium for one of Hideki's games when the car they were in got t-boned by a ten-wheeler truck. The Nakamichis including Hideki showed up to the hospital only to find out that they didn't have enough of the right type of blood for transfusion to keep them alive. It turned out that Midori and Hideki matched their blood types, so they gave their own to save them."

Pause.

"And it wasn't enough that they saved their lives, the three of them woke up and recovered to go back to school and find out that all their student loans had been paid by some benefactor overseas. They knew all along it was the Nakamichis, but they never took the credit for it."

Mitsui was awed by the family's generosity, never knowing her family was so selfless and giving. Perhaps it was why Reiko radiated with the genuinely openhanded kindness. It ran in their blood.

"You know, Mitsui, when I heard these stories in the break room, it made me feel very small and selfish. All that time, I thought that she was this spoiled princess living the posh life. But then I heard about her condition, and what happened to her family... how she became an orphan overnight. I meant no disrespect when I said that, Mitsui, but this girl gave me another look at life that I would've otherwise never seen if I wasn't given the chance. Those three guys know what it's like to be alone in this world, but unlike Reiko-san, they never met their real parents, so they never had to feel the pain of what it's like to have a family and lose them in a blink of an eye... I may not be rich like her, but I'm pretty healthy. I've got a dad who's always telling me to find a good woman, a mom who's always making sure I'm polite and don't drink out of the milk carton, and a kid brother who wants to deejay just like me."

A moment of silence passed over them as both men watched Reiko make a slow somersault in water, now cherry blossom pink from the leaching process. Her hair was free from the usual braid, and it drifted weightlessly all around her, her hands moving in the water, keeping her suspended.

"I may not have money, but after thinking about it... shit, I got plenty compared to her and these people."

Mitsui bit the inside of his lower lip as he let the DJ's words soak in. He'd known all of which he just said for a long time now, he just refused to let it fuel his pity for her. Yohei crossed his arms and looked over at the jubilant lab coats once more, several of them happily reciting the values from the screens before them and cheering.

Rusty waters.

"Enough of this serious talk. Mitsui, I was told I'd be spinning at some high roller joint tomorrow night."

"Yeah, I was told that, too... oh, and be prepared to wear a tux."

Yohei's eyes bugged out. "Deejay in a tux?" he said incredulously.

Mitsui grinned softly before bringing a hand to his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, you won't have to get one. I hear they have one your size and mine."

"You mean we all gotta go dressed as penguins?"   
"You got it."

Yohei regarded Mitsui with judicious eyes. Something was eating at the shooting guard. "Hey man, you okay? You look like you got a lot on your mind."

He nodded and rested his gaze back on the test subject in the acrylic tank. "A lot of things."

"For one thing, you look like you could use about a month of sleep."

Mitsui smiled a little.

"And another thing, I hear you've been with her twenty-four seven. Don't you have a day job?"

"The question to ask is, do I _still_ have a job. The answer is, yes. It's unbelievable. They just sent me a ton of shit to do and I don't know where to begin. All I know is that I want to be with her and that's all I want to do."

The DJ shrugged. "Can't blame you for that, but if you keep up this pace, you'll be sixty before your next birthday."

Mitsui chose not to say any more, instead choosing to watch Jackson and Sakai walk up the steel platform to the lip of the cylindrical tank and pull Reiko out of the water, its hue nearly that of rust. The clock on the wall read thirty-six minutes past eleven, and all heads quickly turned to the sound of a champagne bottle popping open. Before they knew it, Mitsui and Yohei were given glasses of champagne before being dragged into the conference room by a herd of ecstatic white lab coats.

* * *

Walking down the fresh produce aisle of the local grocery store, she blankly eyed the white nozzles above the steel vegetable bins that rained down a mist of cool water over the vegetables, entertaining for a moment the thought of placing her head underneath one of the nozzles and letting the water collect on her head until every strand of hair was drenched. She blinked out of her trance when she heard the rattling of a shopping cart pass behind her. She took two moist cucumbers and shook off the water before placing it in her basket, inwardly laughing at herself. 

_It would be far better to just go to the seafood section and dunk my head in the live fish tank. Why wait to get wet when I can immerse myself completely in less time than it takes to bat an eyelash?_

Stopping in front of the fruit stand, Ayumi forcefully shook her head. What in the world was she thinking, jumping into a fish tank? Absolutely ludicrous! She sighed and began to look for the choicest apples on the stand. Her parents really ought to stop setting her up blindly with bachelors who were more than willing to get to know her, more so than she. She could've sworn she soundly said no. Are they hard of hearing? Maybe it's time to see about a hearing aid for both of them. Or better yet, a caring, loving nursing home where their every whim would be catered to so they could forget that they had a daughter who was quite content on being single at the moment. That idea was moot; there was no way she could do that, even if they were imposing this dating torture on her. Would she then endure it all till she was too old to be suitable for marriage and just wait until they grew tired of playing matchmaker? Suddenly, the live fish tank sounded so inviting.

_Maybe I'll drown and turn into a water sprite and help everybody else who's going through what I am—_

"Ah!"

Ayumi walked right into the broad back of a person standing by a shopping cart, the man turning around to find her hand covering her nose, her eyes briefly closed after the impact. Cracking one eye open, she was taken aback at the sight of person before her.

"I'm terribly sor—"

"Ayumi-san!" another voice said, belonging to the man who emerged from behind the man she bumped into. "It's good to see you again!"

Still clutching her nose, she quickly greeted the old man with a quick but polite bow. "Hello again, Yoshi-san. It's good to bump into you—ah, I mean," she stuttered, her voice muffled with her hand over the bottom half of her face, "it's good to see you again." Turning her attention to the manly obstruction before her, Ayumi removed her hand bashfully. "I'm sorry for running into you like that. I wasn't paying any attention."

Jackson smiled and shook it off. "Don't worry about it. Are you okay?"

She relaxed sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Why would you call that unfortunate, Ayumi-san?" asked Yoshi as he tossed a handful of portabello mushrooms in a plastic bag.

Ayumi tried to hide the embarrassment that her cheeks betrayed with a flush. "Actually, I was wondering if I can go back and run into you again, maybe this time I'll hit you hard enough to pass out."

"What?" the two men exclaimed.

She grinned sheepishly at them and averted her gaze to the ground, thinking of something to say. _Perhaps I've said too much._

"Young lady," said Yoshi in a very fatherly tone, "you have some explaining to do. And while you're at it, you can help this old one in picking more of these mushrooms."

She heaved another sigh, took a plastic bag from one of the dispensers and handed it to Jackson. "Please hold this open for me."

"Ayumi-san, I want you to help me, not Jackson-san."

She played dumb. "Huh? Oh! Well, you should've said 'this _older_ one' then, not old."

The large guard arched a brow at Ayumi as she shrugged and slightly stuck her tongue out at him, the old man tickled pink. She waited for him to take offense, but instead he smirked at her as he met her eyes full of mischief. Digging with Yoshi through the mushroom pile, Ayumi was secretly thankful. It would be good in the meantime to retain what was left of her sanity and enjoy the company of people she actually knew before enduring another dry, boring dinner with a total stranger she had no wish to meet.

"So tell me, why do you sound so desperate?" asked Yoshi as he placed a full bag in the shopping cart. Ayumi shrugged.

"Oh, you know, the usual fractured fairy tale."

Questioning looks.

"...Okay, you're going to have to explain a little more."

Jackson noticed the sudden emptiness in her eyes even as she occupied herself to pick out the nicest mushrooms in the batch, the playfulness before in her voice not matching the weariness behind her gaze.

"Well..." she trailed as she examined a large mushroom in her hand, "it's like, Cinderella... but completely reversed. She doesn't mind doing all these chores for her wicked-- okay, maybe not _that_ wicked stepmother... and she has no desire at all to go to the ball and meet a prince. Instead, the stepmother is the one _pushing_ her into attending the ball, turning every mouse of a reason into a pair of designer gown and shoes and a car to boot, and coercing her with guilt trips to meet so-called princes who could potentially sweep her off her feet, which by the way are in _sooo_ much pain after wearing such uncomfortable high heels, and she can't wait for a fairy godmother to appear at the stroke of midnight to give her a pair of good running shoes so she can run away as fast as she can... because it's nearly impossible for a sensible girl to flee from a drooling prince in four-inch heeled Gucci shoes."

By the time she finished voicing her frustration, Yoshi and Jackson could only stand beside her, wide-eyed with wonder. Just how long had she been bottling that up? The large guard was actually hesitant to move, lest he make a wrong one and get slapped with a bag of carefully picked portabello mushrooms by a dreadfully jaded woman. She finally swung her gaze to Jackson and realized how awkward she made the men feel.

"Ah, um... sorry."

Cringing, Ayumi wanted to hide.

Yoshi looked down the floor as he scratched the side of his head. "I... guess you know a lot about how Cinderella feels."

"Yeah," Jackson echoed. "You ought to write that version down for others to read. It's not everyday you hear about a Cinderella running from a ball in Gucci high heels."

She relaxed and met his eyes for a moment, then smiled. "Is that so? Maybe I'll write the book and you can come to my book signing. There will be plenty of fractured fairy tale heroines there."

Jackson watched as the old man took her arm and locked it around his, leading her out of the vegetable aisle. Yoshi sighed audibly and patted her forearm in a consoling manner, telling her that it was too late for him to cross-dress and wear a blue garish gown, whispering that he had already retired his magic wand. Long gone were the days of coming to damsels running away from distressing princes. However, if she needed to evade one such fellow that evening, perhaps she could grace his kitchen once more with her skills to help with a catering job. And, if he played his cards right, he might be lucky enough to send her a much younger fairy god_father_, one who was strong and reliable and could pick her up at five o'clock. Ayumi followed the old man's gaze as he craned his head over his shoulder to look at the unsuspecting guard trailing behind them.

The thought of the large guard in an evening gown with a wand made Ayumi burst out in laughter. Jackson was confused.

"What?"

* * *

Passersby on the sidewalks paused to look at the occupants of a stretch limo stepping out to walk through the doors of the upscale clothing store across the street, and all who witnessed them file through the entrance wondered if they were all models going to a photo shoot. When the last of the women got out of the limo, the driver holding the car door open bowed and bid them farewell, afterwards taking a cell phone from his pocket and dialing as he got into the driver's seat. 

Ring.

"This is Miller."

Starting engine.

"The ladies are in the shop. Where are you?"   
"At the restaurant. Takumi got into a car accident, the pastry chef's got the flu, and one of the line cooks caught it. Jackson's with Yoshi-san and he asked me to help out, but if I stay in here any longer, I will end up breaking half the china."

Clatter.

"Shit, there goes another one."

Guffaw.

"Why'd he ask you to help? Man, we all know you can't even fry an egg right."

Miller heaved a sigh. "Now's not a good time to be joking around."

"Okay, okay. Where's Sakai?"

"He's standing in for one of the line cooks."

Shock.

"He's cooking?!"

"Yoshi-san's got no choice. Look, try to get here as fast as you can. It'll be a miracle of God if we can get some help—"

Silence.

"Hey, Miller... hello?"   
"Ask and ye shall receive. Our miracle just arrived. Nakamichi-dono just sent me a text message, most of the men are at Yohei's house. Jackson just told me to help you fetch the guys in two cars."

Pause.

"Wait. Are you telling me your miracle is Jackson?"

Exasperation.

"No, but he brought Nanami's aunt with him. Can you just get here as soon as possible?"

"Chill out, dude. What's up your shorts?"

"Nothing! I can't really carry all these plates and talk to you at the same time, so drive like hell and get over here!"

Fuji laughed. "See you in a bit."

* * *

As they ascended the steps that led to the revolving doors of the grand hotel, Akagi scanned the lobby for a familiar face who could possibly tell him what was going on. Sakuragi was too distracted with the fine clothing he so animatedly refused to don at first, but no one could stop his running commentary on how elegant and first class he looked now. Akagi found Fuji to be too tight-lipped about the affair, and the smirk he sported was raising red flags in the large center's mind. He received the same invitation scant with details as the rest of the guys Fuji and Miller picked up, and it was all to their utter shock that all the fanfare and dress-up was to salute Ayako for her art and film talent and at the same time serve as her farewell party before her trip to rustic hill country of Italy. As far as he knew, she had never even been to the ends of Japan, little less out of its waters. He had no doubt of Ayako's gift with art and moving pictures; it was this send-off he couldn't accept. What the hell was she going to do in Italy? It was so unlike her to run away from her problems. 

Akagi slowly shook his head, confused at the fact that she didn't give Miyagi another chance, disappointed that he didn't see anyone with more information than he. And Sakuragi wasn't helping; his attention now switched to how swanked out the lobby was. While one of the doormen led the tall centers to the banquet hall, Akagi couldn't help but feel sorry for Miyagi. He was with the point guard when Kaname stopped by the basketball gym to personally hand their invitations to them, and Miyagi's reaction to it was a painful sight to see. The game they were playing was suddenly over, and his hopes of Reiko helping him get Ayako back wilted like Miyagi's posture as he walked away from the court.

_Too little, too late._

"Here you are, gentlemen. Enjoy your evening."

Sakuragi pointed out Rukawa, Kogure and the rest of the people with whom they played college ball as they strode into the majestic hall, both centers heading over to their friends as they waded through the sea of unfamiliar people.

"Damn it, why's that stupid Rukawa invited? I thought this was a geniuses-only event," sulked Sakuragi after narrowly dodging a hefty man flailing his arms, already inebriated.

"Let it go, man. And don't make a scene, either. The last thing you need is Ayako pissed off at you as well."

"Aw, shit..."

A server walked by with a tray of drinks and the redhead quickly grabbed one and downed it quickly. "Well, at least the alcohol is choice."

Akagi wasted no time in asking his two former teammates. "Do you guys know what this is all about?"

Rukawa merely shrugged and Kogure shook his head, his lips pursing lightly. "The invite said Ayako's leaving, and I don't get that."

"It's 'cause she and Miyagi called it quits, and she's going away," commented Sakuragi, downing his second drink.

"They what?!" Heads turned to Kogure as he stared at the redhead in shock. Akagi groaned.

"You heard right, and frankly, I don't get this whole thing. I mean, if she wanted to leave, why this big production? Most girls would more likely do it quietly."

A hush fell upon their circle, all contemplating on what Akagi said. Kogure still couldn't believe that the high school sweethearts could ever break up, and Sakuragi kept his gaze to the marble floor. It wasn't until Rukawa broke the silence that the teammates brought attention to their surroundings.

"Hey... notice something funny about this place?"

They looked about the lavishly decorated hall, their eyes noticing the rows of chairs in front of a podium made of beveled glass. The carved oak walls were lined with tables covered in fine linen, showcasing a number of exotic and expensive finger foods, and with the exception of the wait staff dressed in formal white attire, the grandiose banquet hall was filled with the lively banter of men in tuxedos.

Sakuragi frowned. "Other than these faces I've never seen before, I – wait a minute..." he trailed off, glancing quickly at his watch. "Haruko-san should be here by now. Where could she possibly be?"

"Stupid," Rukawa bluntly stated. "You're missing the point. Look around you. Do you see _any_ women at all?"

Kogure's jaw slackened at the remark, his former teammate's observation plucking a string of suspicion within him. "He's right... and where's Ayako? If this was a farewell party, shouldn't she be here to bid us goodbye?"

Before Akagi could open his mouth to comment, the lights of the hall dimmed thrice as the buttery voice of a woman came softly on the PA system.

"Gentlemen, in a few moments, we will commence with this evening's program. Please take your seats, and kindly have your paddles ready."

The redhead's face contorted into a sour scowl. "What the fuck are we gonna need paddles for?!"

His answer came in the form of Miller handing them red paddles with white numbers on them. They were obviously dumbstruck and confused, and the bodyguard knew that if he gave them a few more moments, they would likely lynch somebody.

"I know this is somewhat puzzling to you guys, but here," he paused to dig in his pockets and produced wads of money, all in U.S. dollars and neatly bundled in thousand dollar stacks. "This is your bidding money. All the money will go to the Cancer Research Society of Japan, and you get to keep what you win." Miller allowed himself a small grin before continuing. "If you see someone you want, I strongly suggest you bid quickly and you bid hard. There's plenty of competition around you—"

"Whoa, pal, throw the brakes on for a minute. Nowhere in the invite did it say that this was some kind of auction!"

"If you still have your invitation, take another look."

The men surrounding Miller looked at each other, Akagi the first to reach into his coat pocket for his invitation.

ï‚– _Arrivederci, Ayako...ï‚—_

---

_you are cordially invited to a farewell celebration for _

_Ayako_

_a most talented film director _

_who will be sorely missed_

_by those whose lives her work has changed_

_please join us in bidding farewell to this fair and precious gem_

_a personal friend of the Cancer Research Society of Japan_

_on _

_the twenty-sixth day of November_

_nine o'clock_

_at_

_the Grand Maple Hotel_

Before Akagi could open his mouth to speak, Miller wiggled his index finger in a circle. "Turn the invitation over." Without hesitation, the dark center did, his eyes squinting as he read the small print.

_hors d'oeuvres served_

_art and date auction at eight_

_dinner and dance to follow_

Akagi nearly went deaf when Sakuragi bellowed out, "Date auction?!! No one told us this was going to be a _date_ auction!"

"An art _and_ date auction," corrected Miller. "Had you flipped the invite over, you would've known what to expect."

Kogure grimaced. "And just how do you expect anybody to read that tiny print? Anyone would just assume it was the printer's mark."

"I've never been to an auction before," deadpanned Rukawa, staring idly at the invitation.

Akagi was getting irritated with confusion. "I'm already spoken for, I don't need to bid for a date," he groused, crossing his arms for a moment before a bolt of insight startled him. _Unless_... "Oh no..."

* * *

"Starting off tonight's auction will be this lovely piece of artwork called, 'Moonlight Shadows', presented by Akagi Haruko. Note the fine, elegant lines and the blending of dark and light on the canvas, almost Escheresque when observed from an angle. And now a little bit about the beautiful lady beside this beautiful painting... Ms. Akagi is a university senior studying fine arts and minoring in finance, loves to watch and play basketball, reading and taking walks at the park..." 

Hands balling up into tight fists, his knuckles were so white from the tension that they could land at someone's face at any one second. Sakuragi was in hell. He had no idea they were going to be set up, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets the moment his girlfriend came into view. As he watched Haruko walk across the stage carrying the painting, his lungs just refused to draw in more air. How could he, when she was under the bright gleam of that spotlight, resplendent in a black evening gown looking so beautiful and radiant, his mouth gaping slightly at the sight. And was his heart thundering so uncontrollably in adulation, or anger at the pleased murmurs erupting from the crowd of men around him? How could she put herself on such a gorgeous display in front of all these men?

"For a chance at owning this fabulous painting and an opportunity to take a stroll with Ms. Akagi at the park, bidding will start at twenty thousand yen."

Sakuragi's arm bolted up like a spring, his face gritting at the foreign auctioneer.

"I have twenty thousand from bidder thirty-two, and good evening, Mr. Sakuragi. Do I have twenty-five?"

A paddle rose from above the rows of heads closer to the front.

"Yes, good evening, Mr. Tachibana. Do I have thirty?"

Akagi dug for the wad of money that was handed to him earlier, and those seated next to him followed suit. "Shit, I hope American money is good in this joint, 'cause that's all we've got!"

Sakuragi stuck his bid paddle out once more, his fury mounting at each opposing bidder. "I don't care, they're gonna have to take it, even if I have to cram it down their throats," he growled as the auctioneer eagerly addressed his bid.

"Ah, good to have you with us this evening, Mr. Suzuki. That's thirty-five thousand from Mr. Suzuki, do I have forty?"

"Why that—"Sakuragi bolted to his feet and was about to give the last bidder a taste of his fist when Kogure and the others yanked him back down to his seat, urging him to calm down. In retaliation, the redhead raised his bid paddle defiantly at the onlooking Suzuki.

"Forty thousand from Mr. Sakuragi. Do I have forty-five?"

A string of bid volleys from the redhead and the Suzuki fellow soon followed, the latter infuriating the former with glancing smirks and eyeful taunts, escalating the bid price to two hundred thousand yen. Sakuragi refused to lose.

Raised paddle.

_Haruko is **my **__girlfriend, and if it's anybody who's gonna take a walk with her anywhere, it's gonna be **me**._

"Mr. Sakuragi has two hundred fifty thousand for the lovely Ms. Akagi and the painting. Do I have three hundred?"

Sakuragi threw a menacing look at the men craning their necks behind them, the iciest glare rested on Suzuki himself.

"Anyone? Going once..."

Suzuki paused to look at the painting and its presenter once more, finally throwing Sakuragi a nod and a wink that furrowed the redhead's brow even more.

"Going twice..."

Silence.

"Congratulations, Mr. Sakuragi. Enjoy your painting and the rest of the evening with Ms. Akagi. And now, the next item up for bid is an ornate piece inspired by the beautiful flowers in the garden of the painter's mother. Vivid with vibrant colors, this oil on canvas piece draws the eye to the Chinese hibiscus in the center of the painting. Presenting this gorgeous artwork is someone just as gorgeous, if not more, Ms. Ueno Nanami."

It was Akagi's turn to be in hell.

* * *

Immensely pleased at the trays of desserts before him, Yoshi placed a congratulating pat on Ayumi's shoulder. She had been such a great help, it was almost as if the pastry chef never got sick. 

"Ayumi-san, you saved the day!" he exclaimed, placing carefully lifting the tray and sliding it into a shelving cart. "My pastry chef will more likely be out for a week, so how about working for me till then? I will pay handsomely for your help."   
Ayumi smiled. "I don't really need the money." She watched as the old man took one of the pastry plates from a tray and placed it before her with a fork.

"How about an escape then?"

"Huh?"

Grabbing another fork, Yoshi sampled a piece of the dessert and allowed it to melt in his mouth. "If you won't work for me for money, how about for an escape?"

Ayumi stared at the plate for a few seconds before grinning knowingly. The old proprietor was so smart.

"I can offer you an excuse and a place to hide from your frog princes."

She sighed and dug into the dessert. "I don't know, Yoshi-san... it sounds too good to be true."

Yoshi threw his hands in the air. "You drive a hard bargain! Okay, how about the excuse, a place to hide, a salary _and_ that fairy godfather who'll whisk you away every time you get set up on a blind date. Does that sound fair?"   
"And just who might this fairy godfather be?" she asked, stifling a giggle. If he meant Jackson earlier, she was ready to burst into laughter. The mental image of him as a fairy was too much to hold in.

The old man winked. "Like I said, a reliable one. Let me worry about that later. Right now, I just need to hear you say yes."

Ayumi already knew her answer before she even tasted the dessert. Opportunities like these didn't come every day, and it was her chance to get out of her parents' blind dating game. And besides, she should know better than to make a nice old man beg for her help when he was so generous in getting her out of her plight.

"All right, Yoshi-san, I'll do it. But you don't have to pay me. Helping to hide me is enough."

His brows rose at her. "Oh? I think I do. How else are you going to afford those Gucci shoes?"

Touché.

She grinned at her new boss. It was going to be fun working with someone who could play with words as well as she did.

* * *

Going through the lobby of the hotel, Reiko was flanked by Mitsui and Jackson as they made their way to the rear of the banquet hall, the even voice of the auctioneer echoing into the hallway as they walked through a side entrance. Jackson immediately placed a headset on and spoke through the wire microphone, alerting his colleagues of Reiko's arrival. When they arrived at the area behind the stage, they found Sakai, Fuji, and a very nervous Miyagi pacing the floor. 

"Where's Miller?" Jackson asked, looking past the paintings resting on easels.

"He's on the bidding floor."

"What?" Jackson adjusted the wire mic closer to his mouth. "Miller, where are you?"

Static.

"On the east corner of the banquet hall, just as planned."

Jackson could've sworn he heard the voice of the auctioneer saying two hundred thousand yen.

"Why are you bidding? Wait, let me rephrase that question. _Who _are you bidding for?"   
Sakai lips bent into a smile. "I think we all know who."

The large guard decided not to push the issue any further and took the guards aside for a quick rundown on security. Meanwhile, Mitsui softly whistled at his friend.

"Hey, Miyagi. Nice clean-up job. That just might be good enough to bag a woman."

The point guard heaved a sigh. "It's not funny, Mitsui. It's just... I... I can't do this, man," his voice croaked. Mitsui slapped him soundly on the shoulder.

"Come on, Ryochin, there's nothing to it!"

"Please do not worry, Miyagi-san. Everything will go well," assured Reiko.

Miyagi managed to calm down after taking a deep breath. "I know... but good God, I'm pathetic. Look at me, I'm shaking like a leaf!"

"Would you feel better if I punched you in the gut?"

Miyagi frowned. "I don't think I would look very cool clutching my abdomen, so no, I'll pass."

"Where are the rest of the girls?" Mitsui asked as he looked at his watch. "It's almost nine o'clock."

"They're all in the dressing room."

Reiko offered to straighten Miyagi's bowtie, and as she did, Mitsui rounded the point guard to make a final inspection.

"All right, Miyagi. Try to exude more confidence, and the rest will follow your lead."

Miyagi glowered at the uncommon words of wisdom that spouted from his friend's mouth. "Gee, thanks, Mitsui. You make it sound as easy as levitating myself across the room."

The shooting guard merely shrugged as Sakai came by to alert them of their stations, and all eyes focused on Miyagi as he took another deep breath, one of many he will take before he sets his eyes on his prize. He followed Sakai out to the hallway, and just as he walked out of sight, Mitsui called out to him.

"Miyagi," he said, watching as he halted his footsteps and craned his head to him. "Show her what you're made of."

A small grin crept across his lips and with a nod, he followed Sakai down the hallway. Mitsui was right. Beyond the oak doors of the banquet hall was a future filled with love and happiness, and all he had to do was get over his fear, take this chance of a lifetime and bare what he truly felt.

_Because there is no point in living a life without her.

* * *

_

She had no idea what she was doing.

From the minute she got to the hotel and the moment she breezed through the lobby doors, all eyes were on Ayako as she followed a man in a white tuxedo into what looked like a conference room. She could hear a clear voice ringing through the room next door, and before she could inquire of what was happening, the man took his leave politely and left her to guess as to what was to happen next. Sighing, she sunk into one of the seats and tried to remember why she agreed to let Kaname sign her up for another volunteer event. It's not that she minded, but having to put on a ball gown was far from the khaki shorts and tennis shoes she's had to wear for volunteering. She felt rather silly the way she was dolled up at Studio One, by the same people who readied her for that unforgettable anniversary date with Ryota, but oh, the wonderment of it all! When Nanami rang her up and said that Reiko was volunteering as well, she felt a little more comfortable. After all, if they were all going to be pretty pretty princesses, more girls participating was definitely going to be merrier.

There was a knock on the door and another man stood in the doorway.

"Ayako-san, the rest of the ladies are helping to sort the auction items for the winning bidders, and I have been informed that they will be joining you shortly. May I get you anything? A cocktail, perhaps?"

She politely refused, and with the gentle closing of the door, she was once more alone.

What was she supposed to do again? Stand next to a painting? It sounded easy enough.

_But do we really need to dress like this?_

Ayako was startled by the door suddenly swinging open, squeals of excitement filling the conference room as her friends filed in and surrounded her with giggles and ecstatic gasps.

"Ayako-chan, you are positively gorgeous!"

"I absolutely love that dress!"

"Girl, you're gonna break the bank!"

Ayako couldn't utter questions fast enough, she was so confused, and all she could do was wait until the excitement died down.

"Wait, wait a minute, ladies..."

"What?"

Disbelief.

"How come you're not as dressed as gaudy as I am?"

Playful riposte.

"You're not gaudy, you're beautiful!"

"But... all of you are in little black dresses. Why do I have to wear this red thing?"   
Feigned astonishment.

"_This_ red thing? Honey, you make it sound like you're in rags!"

"No, that's not what I meant. It's just... I feel so singled out... How come no one told me what's going to happen?"   
Ayako turned to Kaname who switched the grin on her face to a look of overblown concern.

"Care to explain, Kaname?"   
Wary gazes rested on her as they waited for her to speak. Clearing her throat, she took a seat on the conference table.

"You see, they dolled us up, too, but after we showed the paintings, they had us change into these cocktail dresses... I think they did it so the bidders wouldn't be distracted by the previous presenters when the next auction item comes on."

A chorus of agreement.   
"All of us felt the way you did, but don't worry, the auction's almost over, and there's only one item left up for bid."

Ayako seemed to be placated by Kaname's reasoning. "So... do I just have to stand by the painting?"

The girls looked at each other and Sayuri took the lead. "I am _sooo_ glad you asked us that. Actually, you're lucky because you have the easiest job of all."

"And that would be?"

When Ayako was pulled out of her seat and led backstage, she knew she wouldn't get a straight answer.

* * *

"And now gentlemen, to conclude this evening's auction, I present you with the most sought-after artwork that won first place at the Intercollegiate Arts Competition in Kyoto." 

A large screen descended next to the podium and the lights of the banquet decreased in intensity as the artwork described came into view for every one to see.

Mumbles and murmurs.

"Framed in exquisitely hand-carved oak, this piece highlights the ardent emotions of a knight kneeling before a maiden of amber-dropping hair in this scenic display of chivalry and love. Note the knight's eyes as it gazes upon the lovely woman with flowers in her hair... it brings an air of earnest longing that brings this oil painting to life, haunting those who look upon this artwork to ponder the maiden's thoughts of the man before her."

Click.

"And the striking young lady you see on the screen now is the very talented artist for whom this banquet is held... and there is only one word that comes to mind after one look at this lovely woman — exquisite."

* * *

"All you have to do, Aya-chan, is stand right here next to the easel." 

Ayako sighed and did as she was told. "Okay. Then what?"

"Then you wait for Reiko-chan to talk to you through that screen," piped Sayuri, pointing to the flat panel in front of them. "It's _really_ super-easy!"

"Yeah, and with you being so drop-dead gorgeous, it's going to squeeze the money out of the bidders' pockets!"

"It's like playing Vanna White!"

Ayako couldn't help but laugh at the last comment. Miki and Sayuri sure knew how to liven up her spirits.

"Hello, Ayako-san," a voice from the TV said, turning all their heads to Reiko smiling warmly at them. "Thank you for coming. I hope you did not have to wait long."

"No, not at all." Ayako paused. "Wait, can you hear me?"   
"I sure can."

She laughed.

"I have to say that this is the most dressed up I've ever been at a volunteer event."

A round of laughs.

"Doesn't she look stunning, Reiko-chan?"   
A nod.

"Indeed! I'm afraid that the painting pales in comparison to you that it might become invisible the moment the bidders lay their eyes on you."

Girly cat calls.

"Aya-chan, even _she_ thinks you're hot! There's no telling how high the bid will go!"

Whistles of approval.

"Sheesh, guys, stop it. You're making me blush," she said as she stuck her tongue out playfully, Reiko chuckling at the scene as the girls hurled flying kisses at the beauty in the red dress, all the while their lively repartée being captured on film.

* * *

"Oh my God, that can't be who I think it is," gaped Kogure as he and the others stared at the silver screen before them. 

The crowd's din rose to a shout of approval and acclaim for the lady in the red dress, smiling sweetly for all to see.

"Oh, yeah! That's one hot momma!"

"Shit, she's fine!"

"I got first dibs on her!"

"Not if I have anything to bid about it!"

Paddles flew up in the air, bobbing furiously at the auctioneer, his purpose all but lost as the sea of tuxedo-clad men began barking their bids.

"Five hundred thousand!"

"Five twenty-five!"

Yelling.

"Six hundred thousand!"

"Seven hundred!"

Kogure was nearly bowled over at how the bidding mob had quickly gone out of control, frowning at way the men heckled and haggled like they were negotiating for cattle at a stockyard. He swung his gaze at his friends and already they were putting together what money they had left amongst themselves.

"Okay, how much you got?" asked Sakuragi, fanning out the bills in his hand. "I have twelve of these hundred dollar bills."

"I only got eight left," mumbled Akagi in frustration.

"Hell, twenty isn't gonna get Ayako-san away from these pervs!"

Kogure dug in his pocket. "Calm down, Sakuragi-kun. I still have most of my money."

Kazuma and Keiichi also placed their money into the pot, and the former Shohoku teammates were surprised that even Rukawa placed the money he was given earlier in the evening, without a word or even a peep of interest. Counting it all up, Sakuragi held eighty-five hundred dollars in his hand.

"Do you think this is gonna be enough?" he thought out loud, looking angrily at the paddles waving madly at the auctioneer.

"It'd better be, otherwise we're going to have to hit the highest bidder upside the head and kidnap Ayako-san away," said Kogure as his eyes cast a cursory glance at the bidders, a churning irritation building inside him. "Where the heck is Miyagi at a time like this?"

"Right here."

Heads craned over broad shoulders.

"Ryochin! Where the fuck have you been?" yelled Sakuragi as he marched toward Miyagi, the carefully counted bills now crushed into a crumpled wad in his fist. "In a few minutes, your girlfriend's going to end up in the clutches of one of these sick penguins!"

Akagi pulled the redhead away from Miyagi, for his friend nearly chest-to-chest with the point guard. "Calm your ass down, Sakuragi. He's right, though, Miyagi. With the money we have left, we've got about eight thousand American dollars among us, and I hope you brought enough dough with you to outbid these guys."

"Man, they're practically drooling over Ayako-san!" exclaimed Kazuma. "You'd better hurry and raise your paddle, Miyagi!"

Sakuragi growled as he grabbed his friend's hand, depositing the money in his hand. "Here's our money, so get to the front and get Ayako-san before these sickos beat you to it." The center turned his gaze to Miyagi's hand and frowned. "Hey, your hands are cold as ice! You okay?"

"Yeah, Miyagi, you're kind of out of it."

_Don't mind me... I'm just having a mild heart attack._

The point guard eyed his friends with a quiet stare, highly uncharacteristic given his usual cheery disposition.

"Hey, snap out of it," coaxed Kogure, gently patting Miyagi's shoulder. The gesture was enough to make the point guard blink back to reality.

"Huh? Oh, yeah... I'm... I'm all right... I just have something very important to do." He looked down at the money in his hand. "I really appreciate you guys trying to help me out... but what I plan to bid with isn't currency."

_My own flesh and blood._

"Never mind that, just take the money and your paddle and outbid these guys!" barked Sakuragi, grabbing his former teammate's arm and dragging him towards the mob of bidders.

* * *

Ayako turned her head away from the screen and tried to listen to what the commotion was all about behind the wall. 

"I wonder what's going on out there..."

A smile.

"Ayako-san, before this evening is over, I would like to congratulate you."

Abrupt hush.

"Uh... Reiko-chan, I thought we weren't supposed to say _anything_ about **that**."

Cheery dismissal.

"I just wanted her to know how pleased I am to have you here tonight, because the success of tonight's auction rests solely upon you."

Quiet sighs of relief.

Meekness.

"I... thanks, I guess... I mean, I just did as you asked."

The noise from the adjacent wall got louder and louder until all they could hear were individual shouts and yells.

* * *

"Eight hundred fifty thousand from Mr. Hatsumoto. Do I have nine hundred?" 

"Nine fifty!"

"Thank you, Mr. Tachibana. Do I have one million yen?"

Raised paddle.

"That's one million from Mr. Suzuki."

"One million fifty thousand!"

"Mr. Hatsumoto raises to one million fifty thousand yen. Can I get one million one hundred thousand?"   
Loud assertion.

"One million _five_ hundred thousand."

Shocked remarks surrounded Miyagi as he looked the surprised foreign auctioneer square in the eye, his jaw set in determination.

"So good to finally have you join us this evening, Mr. Miyagi," he commented with a small smile before raking his eyes over the rest of the bidders. "Mr. Miyagi bids one million, five hundred thousand. Will I get one million five-fifty?"

Many shook their heads at the steep bid, while others contemplated loudly on a counterbid.

"Two million yen."

Miyagi's resolute voice caused all to look at the sharply dressed point guard in frozen awe, and before the auctioneer could find his voice again, he raised the bar once more.

"Two million, and a full year's worth of volunteering for the Cancer Research Society of Japan."

Pregnant silence.

Akagi and the rest couldn't believe how bold their friend became just moments after he stood in front of them dazed and confused. Just how much money did Miyagi have? He didn't think volunteering would be a problem, but two million yen?

"Well, gentlemen," recovered the auctioneer, "there you have it, as Mr. Miyagi said. Is anyone willing to beat that?"   
Murmurs of reluctance.

"Two million, and a full year's worth of volunteering for the Cancer Research Society of Japan, going once."

Expectant look.

"Going twice."

No contest.

"Mr. Miyagi, congratulations on winning the beautiful painting and the rest of the evening with Ms. Ayako."

A loud round of applause filled the room as the men surrounding Miyagi congratulated him with cheers. When the ovation died down, the auctioneer spoke one last time.

"Gentlemen, this concludes this evening's auction, and the Cancer Research Society of Japan thanks each and every one of you for participating and donating to a great cause. In a few minutes, please join us for the rest of tonight's program. Kindly settle your accounts at the registry, and dinner will be served promptly."

Sakuragi and the rest quickly found an unmoving Miyagi on the auction floor.

"Holy shit, Ryochin! Two million yen?!"

Kogure looked at Miyagi in worry. "Will you have enough to cover that?"   
"I hope so, because you might have to sell your kidney on eBay if you don't."

"Well, at least we'll know Ayako won't be with some stranger," Akagi said, scratching the side of his head. "Miyagi, did you know that she's leaving for Italy?"

A nod.

"Ryochin, do something or it's really 'arrivederci' for you."

Awareness.

"I plan to, Sakuragi. I plan to."

..._But it's really all up to her.

* * *

_

Mitsui crept behind and startled Ayako with a gentle tap on the shoulder, earning him a yip before she beamed happily at the shooting guard.

"Mitsui-senpai! It's good to see you again!"

Mitsui's brows rose in appreciation. "Thanks, but I'm sure lots of people out there will be saying the same about you."

"Oh, stop it," she said, rolling her eyes at Mitsui.

He laughed as he glanced at Reiko who held her silence with a grin on the flat panel. "Well, I think you'll see just how much of a heartstopper you really are. I give it a minute."   
"Whatever. Anyway, what are you doing here? Kaname-chan told me that all you guys are supposed to be out there."

"Actually, I am just a mere pawn in this event."

"So you're volunteering, too?"   
He replied with a smirk. "Yeah, you can say that." Mitsui looked at his watched. "Okay, it's time to round you and the other ladies up. Come on, let's go."

Ayako turned to the screen and took her leave before following Mitsui up a short flight of stairs leading to the stage.

"Okay, Ayako-chan. Put your arm around mine so it looks official."

"What're you talking about now?"

"I'm your lowly escort, _Miss_ Ayako," he winked at her, "whose job is to deliver you to the lucky gentleman who won the painting and an evening with you."

Ayako nearly tripped on herself at his words. "What?!"

"Didn't they tell you?"

"Tell me what? All I heard from Kaname was that this was a black tie auction event! I wasn't told of being auc—"

By the petrified look on Ayako's face, Mitsui knew he had to act quickly. "Listen, Ayako-chan. The bidder who won wasn't really bidding for the painting. He was bidding for you." Mitsui stepped forward with a dazed Ayako and led her to the center of the stage, the glass podium and chairs out of sight with only the sight of sharply dressed men crowding the marble floor. Ayako's blank look of disbelief waxed over her features as the din of conversation halted upon her appearance on the stage.

Blink.

_... I must be dreaming...

* * *

_

"I've loaded the last of them, Yoshi-san," said Ayumi into a cell phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder as she carefully took a tray of pastries from the oven with mitts that were too big for her hands. Placing the tray onto a cooling rack, she quickly took the mitts off and held the cell phone in her hand. "Ten minutes... I can have them ready in five... yes... sure thing."

Click.

Putting the cell down, she reached for the icing bag and started decorating the pastries one by one, beautiful abstract lines and swirls of delicious swiss chocolate adorning the small tarts of cream and fruit. Ayumi worked quickly with near mechanical precision, knowing that at any minute, someone was going to pick up these desserts to replace the ones tipped over by one of the servers at the banquet hall. Hearing the sound of car keys jangling, she looked up to see the rear entrance of the kitchen open.

"Sorry I took so long," greeted Jackson, closing the door behind him. She smiled.

"Actually, you're three minutes early. I thought I'd have at least that much time before you got here."

"Need help?"

"If it's not too much to ask."

"Not at all."

After taking his tuxedo coat off, he washed his hands and dried them on a towel by the oven, taking another icing bag on the counter and copied Ayumi's design on the tarts. As he switched from one pastry to another, he noticed the small, skin-toned bandages on her hand that held the bag, the other carefully squeezing the icing from the other end. Her cuts seemed to heal slower than expected.

"Why did they send you, Jackson-san?"

He paused at the third tart. "It turned out they were short of servers, and Yoshi-san is helping with the waitstaff, so I volunteered to get the pastries."

"That's surprising, since you always watch over Reiko-chan like a hawk."

A shrug.

"Mitsui-san's covering for me."

An awkward silence grew between them in the large kitchen, the even sound of Ayumi's breathing clearly perceptible to Jackson's attentive ears. After decorating his tenth tart, he needed somebody, anybody to slap him across the face and will him to get the nerve to say something, for the hush between them was filling him with a strange sense of ease, a luxury his job never afforded him.

"I'm glad Yoshi-san sent you instead of somebody else, Jackson-san," she suddenly said as she paused to rotate a tart, the comment surprising her helper.

"Why?"

Ayumi let a grin slip across her face as she bit her lower lip in concentration as she poured the icing evenly across the dessert's surface. "You're pretty reliable, and I know there would be no accidents with you this second time around."

"And how are you so sure about that?"

She shrugged. "Well, for starters, you always seem to be the go-to guy Yoshi-san depends on to get things done..." she trailed off as she replaced her empty icing bag with a full one. "And, grocery shopping is never a problem with you being so strong. Carrying sacks and sacks of vegetables requires a strong back."

The burly guard was never one to be placated with patronizing words, and his brow arched at the mental image of himself burdened by a load of potatoes like a slave under the hot sun. He smirked.

"Oh? Is that all you think of me? Expendable muscle?"

Ayumi turned to him with a discerning eye and cocked her head to the side, Jackson meeting her gaze and withholding his amusement.

"Hn... no... no, I think there's a little more to your tough Terminator exterior."

He lost his composure and let out a hearty laugh. "Terminator?"

She knew the comment would melt his cold bodyguard front, and she joined him in his laughter. _More like terminator fairy godfather in a black tuxedo._ She shook her head as she put the finishing touches on the last tart. "Let's just say Yoshi-san let me in on a little secret."

"What secret?"

He helped her load the tarts in a pastry box, curiosity gnawing at him as he repeatedly asked Ayumi what secret the old man had told her, his queries all answered with a cracked grin on her cheerful face. Not one to give up so easily, Jackson was persistent even as they rode to the hotel, each plea for a clue answered with the shake of a head and a knowing, playful smile.

* * *

Her eyes were quick to scan the crowd for familiar faces. All her acquaintances were interspersed across the banquet hall; Nanami, Kaname and the rest of the girls clustered together with her other friends from high school and college, some of them waving quickly at her. Ayako was startled to find her parents dressed elegantly and comfortably mingling in the crowd, she blinked her eyes a number of times. There was a mass of tuxedo-clad onlookers, and if it were not for the tall statures of Akagi and Sakuragi, she would not have picked them out of them crowd. Her heart began to beat wildly in panic as she turned to Mitsui for an explanation. 

"Mitsui-senpai, what's going on?!" she hissed through the side of her mouth, managing to maintain her collected façade as she spoke. "Why are everyone and my parents at this auction?"

The shooting guard calmly smiled, nodding to several patrons as he led her down the sidesteps of the stage. "Don't worry, Ayako-chan," he answered quietly, escorting her to the front and center of the banquet hall. "Like you said, this is a volunteer event, and you and I volunteering for a very worthy cause."

Bewilderment.

"What?"

Ayako nearly jumped out of her skin when applause erupted from the crowd, making her smile awkwardly at the audience as Mitsui leaned in closer to speak.

"I know right now you think this whole thing is some kind of freaky dream you can't wait to wake up from. But soon this crowd will disappear from your senses, and nothing else will matter."

She shook her head slightly, Mitsui's words making no sense to him as she looked past the shoulders of the people putting their hands together for reasons unknown to her. Why the ruckus? She did nothing to earn this thunderous applause, its intensity deafening to her ears to the point of them ringing when the clapping finally died down.

An announcement.

"We would like to thank Miss Ayako for graciously giving her time and talent for our cause. And, we'd also like to thank our most generous benefactor and, in many of the patrons' opinions here, also the luckiest bidder for giving not only his charity but also his time to the Cancer Research Society, a most wholehearted gesture that won't be forgotten."

Ayako looked around her as chuckles echoed throughout the banquet hall, spying from the corner of her eye movement from the back corner of the hall, and with so many men dressed alike, it looked like a ripple in a pond of tuxedos. Music began to blend with the smooth timbre of the announcer's voice, making Ayako look up at the speakers at the far corners of the hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for our most benevolent, very _lucky_ bidder of the evening, Mr. Miyagi."

Roaring applause.

"Enjoy this dance, everyone, and thank you so much for coming to this auction event. We congratulate all our winners, and wish all of you a very happy and _fortunate_ evening."

From out of the tuxedo-clad multitude stepped forward a man whose appearance slackened Ayako's jaws to gape slightly. Gazes locked, each regarded the other with dazzled admiration that it took their breaths away, Ayako's eyes straying to Miyagi's red bowtie that was of the same shade as her dress.

An unhurried waltz.

Outstretched hand.

"May I have this dance?"

* * *

Watchful eyes of blue and grey followed the lone pair swaying leisurely across the dance floor, noting the stiff nervousness of Miyagi's posture as he held Ayako in his clutch. She was sure she wasn't the only one who noticed this; most of the guests in the banquet hall knew what was about to happen, and she kept her hands clasped behind her back in anticipation, wondering what the point guard was feeling at that moment. 

"They look good together, don't they?"

Swinging her gaze to her right, Mitsui stepped towards her with a cocktail drink in one hand and a glass of red liquid in the other. "Are you allowed to have any alcohol?"

"I'm afraid not, Mitsui-san," she replied, grinning apologetically.

"Some cranberry juice, then?"

A cheery nod.   
"I think Yoshikawa-san would approve of that."

She thanked him and took the drink he offered, Mitsui catching a glimpse of her rosy lips touching the cool rim of her glass. Silently scolding himself to calm down, he sighed in defeat at how easily he falls prey to even the most innocuous of her actions. He took a big gulp of his own and willed himself to take his eyes off her. In the far right corner by the entrance of the huge banquet hall stood Yohei surrounded with equipment, his hands resting against the turntable consoles as he watched the dancing pair in curiosity, probably ogling the pair in disbelief that he was playing such atypical music from his CD player. A few feet away from the DJ sat his former teammates and their auction dates on ornately carved wooden benches along the wall, no doubt exchanging whispers of wonder why they were involved in such a big production.

Shiver.

"Are you all right, Reiko-san?"

A slow nod.

"I will be."

Mitsui didn't like that reply, and before he could prod any further, she inched closer to the stage where she could get a better view of the pair waltzing before them. He followed suit.

"Reiko-san," he said as he leaned closer to her ear, "are you sure—"

"I think I understand now, how Miyagi-san feels," she mumbled.

He looked at her as she continued to watch his friends on the dance floor.

"I apologize for interrupting you, Mitsui-san, but rest assured, I am all right."

Not as appeased by her words as he wanted to be, he remained close to her as the sound of rich violin strains filled the expanse of the hall. In the pit of his stomach churned a sliver of concern, for what, he couldn't really tell. Was he worried about her health? Her safety? Moments passed and he clenched his jaw at the thought that the place was virtually a fortress. Jackson and the others made sure of that. They knew each person invited, and they were all harmless. _So what's eating at me? _He needed to stop worrying.

"So, what exactly is it that you understand about Miyagi?" he inquired, his timbre low and even to her ears, trying to hide his unease.

A pause.

"I think... I think he is relieved that Ayako-san is with him at this moment, and yet... he fears the probability of rejection."

Blink.

"...I think everybody does. But, in this case, I don't think that will happen."

She angled her head to look at him with searching blue eyes, Mitsui once again mesmerized by the weight of her stare. "How do you know, Mitsui-san?"   
"Um... I—uh, I just know... 'cause Miyagi and Ayako-chan have been together since, since... I don't know, since the internet was invented."

She smiled at the comment.

"They love each other a lot, and I know she won't turn him down because they'll both be happier this way."

"Which way?"

"Together."

Silence.

Both returned their gazes to the couple on the floor who abruptly stopped their dance and looked as if they were in the middle of conversation.

"What if he has any doubts?"

One knee to the ground.

"She will erase all of them."

Gaping mouth.

A hush befell the whole room, and even the volume of the music was turned down as every one watched with held breaths the reply of the radiant woman in the red dress.

* * *

Seconds ticked by like an eternity as the point guard looked up and into his beloved's wide eyes, and it was all he could do to keep the hand that held the velvet box from trembling in apprehension. 

Blink.

She could see the tiny beads of sweat that reflected the gleam of the lights overhead, the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he waited for her to answer. She didn't realize her eyes leaked tears until they escaped from their corners and trailed down her flushed cheeks, the gravity of the circumstances left her stunned and speechless before a man who teetered between deliverance and rejection. She would have continued to stare at the sharply dressed man before her until she saw his lips move to utter a sound barely perceptible to her ears.

"Please..."

Jolted by his entreaty, Ayako blinked and met the imploring gaze of Miyagi, the point guard barely breathing. He should not have to beg for an answer.

A smile.

"Yes."

It was like being handed a championship title Miyagi doubted he could ever deserve; loud cheers engulfed him as he swept off his trophy and whirled her round and round, applause and delighted shouts resonating throughout the banquet hall. Many of his former teammates congratulated them with whistles, and the ladies who assisted in the delightful conspiracy were nearly driven to tears as they watched Ayako laugh and cry at the same time, a look of indescribably joy beaming from her tear-streaked face. Both parents of the engaged couple were almost in the same state of happiness.

To one person in the crowd, the minutes that passed did so as a season would, the triumphant scene carefully taken in and etched into the stony recesses of memory, carving images of happy faces onto a tablet for all to see and recording their mirth onto a mental phonograph.

In those moments, understanding came with swift clarity.

There was no use in delaying what was truly felt, what made the heart swell with emotion to which no words could do any justice.

It was there all along, had a quiet vitality of its own, its existence bewildering and escaping all rational explanation as one trying to outrun one's thoughts on foot. It always wins in the end, no matter how wonderful or painful the consequences may be, whether it left the heart in ruins or fortified it with hope. It always wins.

There was no use denying what was deep in her heart.

* * *

A couple of hours went by before the crowd completely dispersed and slowly filed out the double doors of the hall, with only those who closely conspired the whole affair staying to help with the clean-up. When Yohei playfully declined Mitsui's offer to help the audio equipment into his van, the shooting guard smiled at the DJ's comment on how impolite it was to leave one's date alone. Shrugging, Mitsui held out his hand to his friend and Yohei firmly shook it, both thanking each other for a faux auction well done. Yoshi and his crew stopped by the empty banquet hall and took their leave, Ayumi waving goodbye to Reiko as she followed the old man out the doors. The rest of the guards scouted the surroundings before clearing their charge and her companion to leave, her unexpected request surprising them agape. 

"May I stay a few minutes longer?"

Astonishment.

"... Yes, it's no problem."

The guards looked at each other with questioning gazes before congregating at the entrance, leaving Mitsui and Reiko to stand in the expanse of the grand banquet hall. He wondered why she wanted to remain.

"This place is so dull now that it's quiet, don't you think?" he said as he peered into her distant eyes.

Blue grey.

"Yes, quite the contrast to Yohei-san's upbeat music."

A pause.

Idle confetti.

"Miyagi-san looked so relieved," Reiko said, picking a shimmering piece of confetti off the floor, Mitsui smiling at the bright glints it reflected on her face.

"I think he's more than relieved. He most likely feels like the luckiest man in the whole world right now."

She replied with a soft smile, her blue eyes looking at him with watchful hesitation. To Mitsui, she was unreadable. Ever since their whispered conversation during Miyagi's proposal, she seemed withdrawn and reticent, as if in deep thought. He was never one to push the issue, so he decided to make it easy for the both of them.

"Do you think it's too late to ask you for a dance?"

Raised brows.

"But... we have no music."

He didn't wait for her permission and held his hand out as she had taught him many years ago in Miyagi's backyard, but this time their surroundings were more appropriate. His entreating gaze was met with a warm grin, Reiko accepting the offer as she placed her hand in his. The guards found it amusing that their charge and her beau waited for the hall to be completely empty and devoid of music before deciding to dance, and it looked like a romantic scene out of a very old movie. They continued to watch in silence.

Impression.

"You are very good at dancing the waltz."   
He laughed.

"I oughtta be, since this is really the only form of ballroom dancing I know. And it's all thanks to my wonderfully patient teacher."

She giggled quietly as he led her across the confetti covered floor.

A deep breath.

"I'd like to tell you a story, Mitsui-san. That is, if you do not mind," her voice quaked meekly. He held her a little closer against him.

"I'm all ears."

A lengthy pause.

"A long time ago, there was a hired farm hand who worked at a large cattle ranch that spanned hill upon rolling hill of land. He did hard labor, and it was all he did as soon as the rooster crowed till the sun set in the horizon."

Smiling attention.

"One late afternoon, the farm hand was walking back to the barn when a horse burst wildly from its doors with a very inexperienced rider on its back. The man reached for control of the reins and calmed the horse down, and was surprised to discover that the rider was a beautiful woman. To repay her savior from what could have been a serious injury, the cattle rancher invited him for dinner, a small token of gratitude for protecting his daughter from an accident."

Twirl.

"From that day on, the farm hand woke before the rooster crowed to do all that was required of him, just so he could make sure that the beautiful woman he saved would remain unharmed during her afternoon rides. He followed her from a distance on horseback, and day by day the distance shortened between them, her kind and gentle demeanor gave the farm hand the courage to engage in friendly conversation. The farm hand knew that he loved this woman from the day he saw her, but he doubted his love would be reciprocated by someone of such status and class. Nevertheless, he loved her with all his heart."

Mitsui had a feeling that her story was more of a spoken parallel of what was occurring between them, Reiko's eyes averted and looking past his shoulder. For some reason, embarrassment slightly colored his face, and had she returned her gaze to him, she would've inquired of his reaction. His movements on the floor became mechanical as he listened to her honeyed voice.

"And then, an outbreak of pneumonia nearly wiped out all of the rancher's livestock, including his prized bulls and heifers. It placed the rancher in financial difficulty to the point of letting all the farm hands go, save for one who chose to stay without pay. After being told that the banks were going to repossess the land if he did not settle his accounts by the end of the month, the rancher sat outside the porch of his house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and the weight of his head in the other. He did not know how to recover."

A deep breath.

"The farm hand saw how distraught his master was, and he asked if there was anything he could do to help him. With a hysterical laugh, the rancher replied, 'If you can save my ranch and my daughter from destitution, I will give you any thing of mine.' The rancher knew there was nothing the farm hand could do, and he was slowly consumed by self-pity. A few days later, the farm hand disappeared, dismaying the rancher even more, for his only loyal servant had left him as well. He feared that it was only a matter of time before his daughter thought of leaving."

Mitsui shook his head slightly and interjected. "I don't think she'd do that, would she?"   
Reiko gently loosed her hand from his grasp and placed a finger over his lips, a tender request for his silent attention. He acquiesced with a smirk and she continued.

"Seven days passed and there came a knock on the door which the rancher dreaded to hear. Thinking it was the creditors who have come to collect on bills past due, he opened the door with much hesitation, and to his surprise he found his farm hand dressed in a suit and tie, a hat in his hands, standing humbly before him. After being invited inside, he said to the rancher, 'Sir, I have given up everything I have to save your land.' He took an envelope from his coat pocket and placed it on the table before the rancher. Dumbfounded, he opened the envelope and was shocked to see all his accounts paid in full. He had no idea that his unassuming farm hand was the son of a prominent Japanese businessman, who did not want to rely on his father's wealth and fame and decided to go to America to make a name for himself. But because he wanted to help the rancher, the farm hand asked his family for his inheritance and bore the burden of being disowned by his own blood."

The pair slowed to a standstill, Mitsui keenly observant of the sapphire light shining in her eyes as she quietly beckoned him to walk towards the doors. He hesitated to speak.

"And then... what happened?"   
A nod.

"The rancher got on his knees and kissed his loyal servant's hands, crying in happiness and relief, saying, 'How can I ever repay you? Not only have you saved my land, you've saved my daughter yet again! Ask anything of me, it will be yours.' At this time his daughter emerged from her quarters, her eyes happy and relieved to see her protector and friend once more. The farm hand met her gaze with loving eyes and turned to his master. 'Sir,' he said, 'I am wiling to be your humble servant from now until the day I die. All I ask, is that you allow me to watch over your daughter, because... because I love her with every fiber of my being, and I will do everything to protect her and those she loves.'"

Much to Mitsui's disappointment, Sakai and Jackson's polite intrusion placed Reiko's story on hold, and her entourage led the way to the front of the hotel where they stood in wait for the younger guards to retrieve their vehicles.

A cold gust of wind.

Shudder.

Wordlessly placing his tuxedo coat over Reiko's shoulders, Mitsui relished her whispered thanks, remarking that autumn was soon ending, and these evening breezes brought the chill of the coming winter. The older guards kept a respectable distance from the two, and seeing this chance to coax her into continuing her story once more, he gently nudged her elbow, his ears hungry to hear her dulcet voice infuse magic into her words.

"So he said he loved her with every fiber of his being... and then?"

A subtle smile graced her lips as her eyes skimmed past the cars that drove by, blankly resting at the traffic signal above the intersection.

Green.

"Upon hearing this, the rancher finally understood why the farm hand chose to stay before despite the threat of the ranch's ruin. His daughter timidly confessed that she also loved the humble man in the suit, and the rancher happily gave his consent for them to marry. He knew many people would find their union objectionable, so he stood up and protected his loyal servant like the son he never had. The rancher was able to grasp a good hold of his finances once more, and his son-in-law multiplied his assets ten-fold by inventing a directional drilling method to tap into the black gold that lay deep underneath the ranch's land. Not long after this, my grandfather was born."

The cars made their way to the cul-de-sac driveway of the hotel, and the older guards descended down the steps to open the rear passenger door of the Benz. Seeing no movement from the conversing pair, Jackson looked to Sakai for explication. Getting none, he glanced up to find Mitsui's features piqued with interest in Reiko's words, the latter angling her head at the very engrossed shooting guard. Jackson cleared his throat.

"Whenever you're ready, Nakamichi-dono."

Acknowledging the burly guard with a word of thanks, she turned to Mitsui once more. "Will you be participating in tonight's exercises, Mitsui-san?"   
He chuckled. "Yes, but right now, I just want to know how your story ends."

Knowing hush.

"That makes two of us."

Mitsui didn't understand, and she didn't give him a chance to inquire any further. "Shall we go?"

* * *

Observing fluctuating lines on several graphs, Yoshikawa frowned at the streaming data being posted on the flat panel screen. Freshly brewed coffee forgotten, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, hoping that perhaps he really was just fatigued and needed a break from his relentless research. It was bad enough that two of his colleagues were passed out in front of their consoles, and he didn't think that there was enough caffeine in his coffee to keep him up. Replacing his glasses on his face, he took a deep breath and sighed. Even after all the work with Mitsui, Reiko still exhibited unexplained bouts of sympathetic discharge, befuddling the lab coordinator to no end. Were the electrical pads displaced on her somehow? Was her safety being compromised? He could only speculate as the lines recorded plateaus of beta wave activity on the screen. 

"What is happening to you, Nakamichi-dono?"

Ring.

Yoshikawa reached for the phone and answered. "This is Yoshikawa."

Driving static.

"Hello, this is Sakai. We are going to be an hour or two late. Nakamichi-dono asked to stop by the Yoshi's for a while."

"Is she all right?"   
"I think so, but... she's acting rather nervous around someone who normally puts her at ease."

"I can tell. Her stats aren't painting a calm picture."

Bit lip.

"Do you think it's wise to stop by the restaurant?"

A pause.

"It should be okay... if you can get her to eat a little, it would be even better."

Grin.

"I'll do my best. In the meantime, please take a break. You're exhausted, I bet."

Tired chuckle.

"Right on the money. I'll see you in a little while, then."

Click.

The lab coordinator focused his weary gaze at the screen once more, finally sinking back in his seat and closing his eyes. _It's going to be okay, stop worrying..._ Should there be a precarious change, the monitor will beep and she will be quickly rushed to the lab. Her beta waves remained in a high normal range, still acceptable yet prompted cautious supervision.

For now, a nap was in order.

* * *

Warming her hands around a ceramic mug filled with hot chocolate, Reiko looked out to the lake where the reflection of a crescent moon rippled across its calm surface, the late autumn climate crisp and cool to the skin. Out on the deck with her were the younger guards and Mitsui, having a friendly discussion on the latest performance of Akagi's basketball team, while Jackson volunteered to help Yoshi clean up in the kitchen. Sakai quietly approached Reiko and inquired to make sure the pads placed on her before the auction were still in place, and after palpating for them on her chest and behind the ears, she assured him of their secure attachment. Sakai meekly grinned. 

"That should be great news to Yoshikawa," he said, mimicking Reiko's leaning posture on the railing. "He's a little worried about your stats just now." The guard took a sip of Yoshi's hot chocolate brew before throwing his charge a side glance. "Are you sure you're not cold?"   
She shook her head with a smile. "Mitsui-san's jacket is warm enough." Unexpectedly, she reached out her hand and placed it over her bodyguard's forearm, Sakai's head turning at the gesture. "Sakai-san, you never did answer my question before... about how you wanted to live out the rest of your life."

He allowed his thoughts to settle on the subject, raising the mug once more to his and taking a long, thoughtful sip. "Well, if you promise not to laugh," he said, getting a confirming nod from Reiko before continuing. "I would like to go back in the book business and let my aging mother rest for a while."

A pleased grin pulled on the corners of her mouth.

Pensive moment.

"Might you consider some help in the shop... from time to time?"   
He chuckled softly. "Yes, I suppose I would." Turning his eyes from the moon to the azure pools of his ward's eyes, he squinted at the suppressed inclination to utter more words in its depths. "What about you, Nakamichi-dono? How do you want to live the rest of your life?"

Shaky sigh.

"I will have to wait and see, Sakai-san."

A minute of silence passed between the two, the older guard's head tilting slightly as if to plumb the meaning behind Reiko's uncertain words, her eyes betraying a trace of consternation.

And then, realization.

A lopsided smile spread across Sakai's visage, sucking in the cool air around them. "Well... perhaps Yoshi could use a few more extra hands in the kitchen. Let me go round up the help," he said, pausing to look at Reiko's reaction before winking at her. Standing erect, he leaned towards her and whispered. "Whatever happens, we will always be here for you."

Reiko pushed herself off the railing and watched the older guard rally up the younger ones, excusing themselves from their lighthearted conversation with Mitsui and headed back inside the restaurant. His gaze immediately finding Reiko, Mitsui walked slowly towards her, biting the inside of his lip as he thought back to her story earlier at the hotel.

"Thank you for lending me your jacket, Mitsui-san," she said as she reached for her shoulder to take the garment off.

"No, keep it on, it's kind of chilly tonight," he urged, his hands keeping the jacket in place.

"But, you have nothing to warm you—"

He grinned proudly at her, pointing to his chest. "Don't worry, I have a furnace in here," he said, making her beam at the comment. "And besides, you look better wearing it than I do." Seeing her return her eyes to look at the surface of the lake, he leaned on the railing beside her. "You know, all that time I was talking to Fuji-san, I wondered why you told me that story." He hesitated. "Is there a reason?"

Taking a deep breath, she turned her head to the shooting guard's chest, her eyes tracing the outlines of the vest he wore over his dress shirt, his bowtie dangling loose about his neck. Even in this relaxed manner of undress, the chiseled lines of her companion's features stood out attractively, a handsome exterior that complimented the patient character beneath. And now, she must test it.

Exhale.

"You must have also wondered in the past why my eyes change colors, Mitsui-san."

A nod.

"I am mainly of Japanese ancestry. The farm hand in the story was my Japanese great grandfather, and my great grandmother was a kind beauty of German descent with the most beautiful blue eyes. Those were the words my father used to describe her."

"Oh."

Chuckle.

"Midori nee-san once told me that because we were the product of mixed bloodlines, my great grandmother's genes would surface sooner or later, and she claims they did so when I was born. She and Hideki nii-san used to call me Blue Silver, because my eyes changed colors with the mood I was in."

Mitsui was surprised to hear Reiko talk about her family so freely, the hesitation that usually stifled her voice to a meek strain absent this time, in its stead a tender, placid tone of lucidity.

"However, it was not just her blue eyes I inherited. I was told that even as I was in the womb, Uncle Tak had already begun treating me for a hereditary disease that denied my body the ability to produce proteins that would normally maintain a healthy metabolism. In the forefront of genetic engineering, Uncle Tak devised the immersion process to reap the toxins that saturated my blood... it is supposed to be a peripheral adjunct to the therapy I was receiving on the inside."

The shooting guard held his tongue and waited for her to continue, his gaze trailing from her fair profile to the graceful dip of her neck as she looked down at her empty mug.

"That story of how my great grandparents met... I used to think that it had nothing to do with me. It was not until now that I realized how it had everything to do with me, with what I saw around me, with what I felt. I understood, to some extent, the circumstances they were in... it was a different time and place, but the feelings were all the same. The yearning in the farm hand's heart to be near the rancher's daughter... her hesitation to step into a relationship of which no one at that time approved... the despair of the rancher at the certainty of losing everything he had worked for..."

Mitsui inched closer, his eyes trained on her downcast orbs of blue. "And... whose feelings are closest to yours now?" he said, his timbre soft and low.

A wistful smile.

"My great grandmother's."

For a moment his heart ached at her reply, with each beat of its chambers a foreboding sense of rejection. Could she have had a change of heart? She was keeping something from him, and he had to find out before dread overcame him.

A long, brooding pause.

"... Is it because of me?"

She quickly shook her head, her hand fumbling to reach for his.

* * *

Yoshikawa woke with a start at the sound of beeping, his other colleagues rousing quickly at the noise. Immediately looking at the monitor, his eyes went wide with panic. 

Sympathetic discharge.

"Sir, heart rate spilling over threshold!"

Incessant beeping.

"God, please slow it down..."

* * *

Crash. 

Gasp.

"Oh no, how clumsy of—"

Mitsui was first to bend over and pick up the pieces. When she tried to do the same, he stopped her with his hand against her shoulder, his clutch firm and restraining. "No, let me take care of it. I don't want you to get cut." As he collected the shards one by one, Reiko bit her lip in frustration as she watched Mitsui's face slip into a cheerless mask.

_Stay the course..._

"Mitsui-san," she said as her hand shot out to grip the arm that stayed her still, her voice quivering in the cold night's air. "This is not... I am not... I was referring to something else."

The hurt in the shooting guard's eyes was replaced with confusion as he looked down at the crevices of the wooden deck. "Oh." _I don't understand... _He watched her bring a hand to her face in an attempt to hide her discomfiture.

"I... I am having the greatest difficulty, trying to find the words to explain what I mean." There was a storm of emotions that clouded her thoughts, robbing her tongue of the courage to speak out. This much Mitsui could see, and he wanted to make it easier.

Proposition.

"Would you like some more time then?" he asked, his tone so sincerely tolerant that it nearly drove her to tears.

Blue peering into brown.

"If it's that hard to say, then it must be important." For a second, Mitsui was afraid that she had begun to cry. He was glad she didn't, noticing her gaze straying to the lower right corner of his vest. "Let me throw this broken mug away. If by the time I come back you still find yourself in need of more time, I will give it to you." She seemed relieved when he smiled. "There's no need to rush, right?"

She nodded mutely at him, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she contemplated what to do next, his patience toward her making yet another humbling impression. "Perhaps... what I meant to tell you before, Mitsui-san... is that the story has a moral."

His brows rose as he stopped himself from stepping away, taking a minute to think before finally giving up. "What is it?"

_Take the risk..._

False bravado.

Pause.

"Sometimes, the answers we seek are as close a reach as our pockets."

Mitsui blinked at her words, recalling her story of the farm hand's sacrifice to save the rancher's land. He sighed inwardly at the simple tenet; he wished a miracle of the same sort would save him this confusion he was caught in. He couldn't lose heart now; he knew that something significant was about to happen, he could feel it in his gut. It was in her voice, and he could see it in her hesitant eyes. _What are you hiding from me?_

He tried to give her the closest thing to a genuine smile. "I would've never thought of that."

Hearing no reply from her, he excused himself and took the broken mug with him to the kitchen were he heard its occupants scrambling away from a window which conveniently overlooked the wooden deck. Too occupied with his own thoughts, Mitsui found the trash bin and disposed of the jagged shards, his mind a tumult of words and trepidation as he vacantly stared at the contents of the bin.

_"I am having the greatest difficulty..."_

Inhale.

_"... The story has a moral..."_

Exhale.

_"... As close a reach as our pockets."_

Blink.

_Pockets..._

A wry smile tugged at his lips as he unconsciously dug his hands in his trouser pockets. _Empty, of course..._ What could he possibly offer her that could fit in a pocket, little less a wallet? He was broke and in debt, and his salary had nothing on Reiko's overwhelming family fortune, but lately that didn't seem to matter. He suddenly knew what it was like to be in the farm hand's shoes. Roused from his musings, he heard Nanami's aunt ask the guards if one of them had a Swiss army knife with a little screwdriver tool to tighten the loose screw on one of the mixers. Mitsui idly watched the men dig into all their pockets, and it was Yoshi who produced the requested tool from his vest pocket, earning a pleased sigh from Ayumi.

_Good for her..._

"Mitsui-san, would you like something else to drink?" asked the old proprietor as he washed his hands by the sink.

"Huh? Oh, no thanks, I just came in here to throw something in the trash." He noticed Jackson craning his head to look outside the window at Reiko. "I'll be outside if you guys need me."

"Sure thing," replied Fuji, the young guard throwing Mitsui an approving grin.

* * *

Ring. 

Impatience.

_Come on, answer..._

"Hello?"   
"Jackson, what the hell is going on out there?"   
Whisper.

"We don't know, but it's something really important..."

"What?"   
"I'll call you back."   
Click.

Yoshikawa looked at his cell phone in disbelief. How can they be so cavalier at a time like this?

* * *

The shooting guard took his time walking back to the deck, each step taken with much thought, wary to find Reiko in a subdued state of distress. He didn't understand the reason behind the story. He didn't understand the moral behind it. _What the hell am I not seeing?_ Mitsui halted in mid stride and thrust his hands in his trouser pockets in frustration. He belittled himself for being a dumb jock, but he couldn't be that dumb; Reiko made even the hardest math problems easy, and it would be highly uncharacteristic of her to stump him now. He shook his head. How could he be thinking of math at a time like this? Taking another step forward, he heaved a sigh at the recollection of her story's moral. 

_"Sometimes, the answers we seek are as close a reach as our pockets."_

Suddenly, Mitsui's breath caught, recalling how her eyes were fixed at the corner of his vest. Looking down at his chest, he found a pocket on the right hand side of the garment, a feature to which he never gave a moment's thought. His brows furrowed in pessimism. His pant pockets were empty before, what makes him think the vest pocket wouldn't be? The moral of the story wasn't meant to be a clue. _...Was it?_ He dug into the little pocket and his eyes grew wide as headlights as his fingers fished out a small, circular object that sparkled cold glints of blue all around its circumference. He quickly broke into a run for the French doors of the wooden patio.

* * *

She heard hurried footsteps strike the wood of the deck, and upon turning her head, the footsteps halted, her gaze rising to encounter the stunned look in Mitsui's eyes, a look that spoke a volume of emotions she was not prepared to meet. Breaking the contact, her eyes strayed to the hand that remained fisted to his side, his somewhat labored breathing clearly audible in the stillness between them. The light in her azure eyes disappeared behind her lids as she let out a nervous, knowing sigh. 

"You asked me before, why I always wished for things... and I gave you an answer. And despite that, you still told me you loved me..."

Reiko bent her head and opened her eyes at the deck, and all Mitsui could do was stay rooted where he stood, air reluctant to leave and enter his lungs.

"There were many nights when I trained so hard under the night sky that I collapsed in exhaustion on the grass... so many that I lost count."

Extended neck.

"And after all those times, I was carefully carried off the exercise field on a stretcher, and all I could see on my back were the stars that shone brightly in the night sky... they were so beautiful, so oblivious to the pitiful creature admiring them from a great distance with weary eyes that strained with pain to stay open, just to see what I feared I would never see again... to wish for the chance to see you again."

Stars.

"Just before I would lose all hope, they would revive me again in the chamber, with currents of electricity and warm waters... and I would blink my eyes open and see all that was done for me, repeatedly, over and over until I was well enough to face another day of torturous training."

Blink.

"With each minute I spent in the tank, I watched the same people who worked so hard to keep me alive move about, my uncle, my men who watched over me from one corner of the lab... so many people to safeguard one life... I understood then that I no longer lived for myself. The simple task of living was their gift to me... but they knew that it would not be that easy. They knew that my body would undergo the physical torture of stress and exhaustion, be subjected to pressure and current, just to be restored and go through the same vicious cycle again and again... but I willingly participated... because after meeting you, life is truly worth living."

Somber smile.

"How I wished to see you again... every time my back was on that stretcher, I wished so hard that my heart ached with every breath. I wished to tell you how I missed the Sunday Mornings we drank together, the sound of your voice, the warmth of your hand in mine... I prayed to God that if I was granted my wish, I will not ask for any more."

Foreign word.

"I... _wanted..._ to go where you were. I... _want_... to be with you. And now that I was granted this wish, I could not ask for more."

Exhale.

Mitsui managed to take a reluctant step forward, his leg weighing like lead as the heel of his shoe struck the wood of the deck. Reiko lifted her eyes to meet the stunned glaze in the shooting guard's eyes, his mouth slightly agape, almost looking like he wanted to say something. She looked at his closed fist once more.

"Each breath I take is made possible by the uncle who spent most of his life finding a cure for my condition, the people who man the machines that revive me, the men who watch over me, and the money my loving family had left for me. It is true that it is enough that I am alive today... I should be thankful, and I am. Every day I eat food that was prepared for me by another person, reap the benefits of therapy because of someone else's hard work. I depend on so many people everyday, and not a day goes by that I am not thankful for their effort. And it is you, out of all, on whom I depend the most... because you made me forget that living was an obligation."

Pause.

"It is disappointing, on my part, that I did not see this as clearly as they had from the day we met. The tingling that I felt in my arm should have been an obvious indication of that, but I was too naïve and blind to accept it."

Still.

"I would like to give you back what you give me everyday."

Cold wind.

"All those things you want... I want them, too. I want to be someone you can depend on, just as I depend on you."

Shudder.

"I want to be the one to hold your hand. I want to be there to greet you good morning when you wake, to see you off to work, to welcome you back home... I want to listen to you talk about your blueprints, your job, your frustrations, your triumphs, anything... I want to be there."

Uncertainty.

"But... for how long, I do not know."

At these words, Mitsui found it hard to separate his dreams almost coming true to harsh reality, his fingers embedding the blue diamond band against his palm as his fist clenched even tighter in distress. His mouth went dry.

Hoarseness.

"What are you saying?"

* * *

Alarming red lights. 

"Sir, heart rate at one hundred eighty beats per minute—"

"She's dangerously close to sympathetic discharge! Sir, we've got to do something!"

The lab coordinator wished they'd tell him something he didn't already know. He stared helplessly at the screen before them. They were now at God's mercy.

* * *

He caught the pained look on her face just before she looked out to the lake, allowing a moment to pass before turning her gaze back to the sky. "My body is changing, Mitsui-san, and I feel it with each day that passes. Yoshikawa-san assured me that as long as you are with me, I will be okay. My metabolism has picked up at an accelerated rate, and because of this they are able to reap more toxins from me. But with ease of exchange comes a high price... paid in increments of time." 

His mind shouted for his limbs to move, to march up to her and hold her against him, to silence her mouth spilling words he didn't want to hear.

Blink.

_Because they hurt._

Reiko looked at him with eyes so blue that he thought time had passed so quickly that the sun rose in her eyes and revealed a cerulean herald of a brand new day. He remained frozen.

"You hold in your hand my answer to your selfishness." Her smile was genuine this time, warm and heartfelt. "Perhaps it should not be called selfishness, Mitsui-san. It might be more appropriate to call it selflessness."

Deep breath.

"I want you to have all the time I have left. I want to make up for all the times you spent alone. Time is one thing neither money nor status can acquire. The other is love. I offer you both, with everything I have and all that I am. However... I feel as if I am cheating you with this arrangement... because I know not how much longer I will last... You deserve more than this—"

She wasn't given the chance to continue, Mitsui quick to stun her into silence with a crushing embrace that left her breathless, completely unaware of the audience that watched silently from the kitchen window on tenterhooks. She felt his chest labor for air against her, and Mitsui clung to her so tightly she could barely inhale. It was not until she heard him sob that he realized he was crying. She returned his embrace, partly in consolation, partly with regret. She could only imagine what he was feeling, and she held him tighter at the thought of him feeling angered and betrayed by the fact that she came back from the dead, only to tell him she had an expiration date that was soon approaching.

"How dare you," he hissed into her ear, his words delivering a blow to her senses. "How dare you belittle _everything_ that is dear to me!" He abruptly pushed her away, only to clamp his empty hand against her shoulder quaking with frustration, his tender tolerance replaced by a rough shake that forced her to face the unrestrained fury in his eyes. "First you tell me that your life is short, and then you decide for me that you're not good enough for me to be with you? Do you enjoy torturing me like this?!"

Tears filled her eyes at the accusation, the pressure on her shoulder lifting as he raised a hand to cup her porcelain face. She moved to bow down her head, only to be stayed firmly by his hold. Not withstanding his gaze, she shut her eyes in shame.

Abrasive.

"Look at me."

He pressed his lips against her forehead.

Softer insistence.

"Look at me."

Reluctantly, Reiko did as she was told, meeting Mitsui's eyes filled with unspoken apology and understanding, his touch gentler and warm against her cheeks as his fingers wiped the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry for being rough, but I need you to understand something for me, Reiko," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, all formality cast aside. He waited for her to acknowledge his request with a slow nod before continuing. "I need you to understand that you are everything to me. I don't care if your time with me is short. Life _is _short, and it is meant to be enjoyed. It hurts me to hear that you don't think I deserve to spend what little time you have left with you. Can't you let me decide that for myself?"

More tears.

"No, no more."

Swipe.

"Please don't cry anymore. I didn't mean to be so cross... I just want you to understand, that I will love you _no matter what you say_. Even if you push me away, deny me, or reject me, I will still love you."

Her heart was swelling with relief and guilt at the same time, unable to fulfill his request. Tears continued to fall with every admission that poured from his mouth, Mitsui caught between a bittersweet balance of completion and the painful truth, the reason behind her parable of the farm hand starkly exposing a poignant paradox on their circumstances. And like the farm hand, he refused to yield.

"If it means anything to you, I used to look up at the same sky, wondering if you were looking down at me, watching over me with your family, if you were happy because you were with them. I know I can't fill their shoes, Reiko, but I do know that I love you, and if you will just let me, I will love you as they have in the past, and even more so... I wish I can prove all this to you, and if I could walk on water, I'd do it... I just need you to believe in me when I say so. If you don't know how happy I am to be with you, then I'll say it again. I am truly the happiest man alive!"

He opened his hand and looked at the ring that left a deep indentation in his palm.

"All that matters is the present, and you are alive _now_. I accept your answer wholeheartedly, so please, I beg you to accept this man in return, who feels like he has loved you all his life, and will love you with every breath in his body."

Mitsui lowered his head to press his lips against hers, the contact a gentle caress that expressed all the love and passion she feared he would withdraw after her startling revelation. Her hands latching onto the soft fabric of his dress shirt, she deepened the kiss, and the warmth that filled her unlocked a sense of relief inside her that she never thought she could experience.

It was as if she was saved from something, like being forgiven a sin for which she had no idea to atone, a second chance at life.

Finally breaking contact, her blue eyes saw the love, the strength of Mitsui's resolve in his, a grateful smile gracing her face that made the shooting guard smile in return. In the quiet moments that followed, they shared an embrace that felt as if it would last a lifetime, Reiko marveling at the grace of God, for this time, He really did let someone remain for her.

* * *

"Yoshikawa, this is Jackson." 

Respite.

"My God, I don't know what just happened, but ten years just got taken off my life."

Sigh.

"I think the worst is over."

Shake of the head.

"I really hope so... I don't think I'd last the night. She looks like she just had a workout on the screen."

"Well, her heart did."

"What?"   
Disregard.

"Never mind. By the way, that report you gave me... does Nakamichi-dono know of the results?"

"Yes, but what she knows is incomplete. She read the copy that didn't include the night when Mitsui-san was on the wires."

Recollection.

"...So she's unaware of the capacity of her cells to withstand the ion exchange from the immersion chamber with greater than expected resiliency?"

"As far as I know, unless you've told her already."

"No, I think I'll tell her much, much later. Time won't be taken for granted when you feel like you have a shortage of it."

Puzzlement.

"I don't really understand, but as long as it keeps her out of harm's way, I'm happy."

"I think from here on out, Yoshikawa, we all will be."


	26. Chapter 25

The sound of revving engines filled the crisp morning air with a deafening roar that made many spectators cover their ears, eyes watching eagerly as the drivers clad in motorcycle suits and their pit crew did their final checks on their super-tuned vehicles. A driver in a blue silver suit put on his gloves and took his helmet from one of the pit crew, pausing to angle his head at the crowd, his eyes scanning across the many onlookers in the stands as another pit member said a few words of instruction and encouragement. Nodding at the man, he lifted to place the helmet on when a series of light reflections caught his eye from the middle of the stands.

Code.

G-o-d-s-p-e-e-d-m-r-m-i-l-l-e-r.

Smiling, he bowed before the crowd and earned a riotous cheer from the spectators before securing his helmet on his head. From the loudspeakers hoisted on steel poles overhead, a hoarse voice pierced the air.

"Gentlemen, start your engines."

Not long afterwards, a yellow flag followed by a green one waved wildly in the air, engines roared and revved violently as the motorcycles flew like bullets across the race track, necks craning to see the one who humbly bowed before weave them deftly through the tangle of speeding motorcycles to take the lead.

Fuji watched his friend and colleague with a smirk as the racers hugged the turns, their knees and bikes nearly kissing asphalt.

"He's still got it."

Jackson nodded with a grin. "I wonder if he'd been bottling up all this talent for this day to come." He turned his eyes to glance at their charge, her gaze following the winding paths of the race track. Next to her sat a slack-jawed Mitsui. The guard chuckled softly and nudged Reiko. "I think someone's impressed," he mumbled to her ear, motioning to the shooting guard.

She looked and was amused. She whispered back. "I'm afraid he is not the only one, Mr. Jackson. I did not know that he was this skilled a racer. I wish Uncle Tak did not solicit his services… the racing world must have mourned his absence."

Jackson paused to look at the racer in the silver suit outmaneuver another bike trying to muscle in for the lead.

Failed attempt.

"Miller's a good guy, with a good head on his shoulders… he decides what he wants to do for himself, and he has good reasons for choosing what he did."

Reiko tilted her gaze at the large guard in silent reflection. The guards, especially the younger ones, had many other routes in life they could have taken. It humbled her to the point of deference that all four _wanted_ to remain sentry to her family, if only for the name they served. It was true that they were all compensated handsomely for their services, and that people can be bought for a price; these men, no matter how hard she tried to dissuade them from staying on, continued their watch like stubborn, surrogate big brothers. Squinting at the howling buzz of engines that passed by the stands, Reiko felt a warm hand latch onto hers. Looking down, she smiled.

"I think Miller-san is trying to tell us something," Mitsui said, threading his fingers through her slender ones. She merely nodded with a smile.

"Yeah, he's trying to tell me that I'm about to lose my bet to you and Jackson!" Fuji jeered as the bikes rocketed through the turns once more. "Thanks a lot, Miller!" he yelled above the crowd. Fuji's companions laughed at his sulking posture. "Hmph! I'm just going to have to win it back from him at poker."

Jackson was about to comment on the younger guard's vices when his cell phone alerted him of a call he didn't expect to receive.

_Vibrate._

"This is Jackson… Yes… Not until the race is over… Early dinner? Sure, sounds good… No, I'm not doing anything afterwards, why?... Uh-huh…"

His companions turned their eyes from the track to the look of puzzlement on Jackson's face as he spoke a little louder into his cell phone.

"You want me to do _what?_"

* * *

Drawn to the sound of a ball bouncing against a concrete surface, Sakuragi stopped short of the intersection to crane his neck at the community basketball court. Swinging his gym bag over his other shoulder, he hesitated for a moment, gnawing at the inside of his lower lip. Haruko would be waiting for him to show up to practice at the main gym on campus, and he was never late to practice again when she took over Ayako's position as team manager. Maybe for a minute or two, he'd let his curiosity get the better of him. 

Stepping onto the park grounds, the dribbler's identity took him by surprise as he peered past the thick foliage, the smooth execution of a quick-footed lay-up making him grin with high school nostalgia.

"Nice goin', Doc."

Recognition.

"Sakuragi! What are you doing here?"

A firm handshake.

"I was on my way to B-ball practice when I heard you out here."

Kogure bouncepassed the ball to the redhead and he proceeded to approach the hoop with a dunk.

_Slam!_

"Good one!" he cheered, reaching for his water bottle on the side of the court. Sakuragi let the ball bounce off and approached his former teammate with a jeer.

"Nothing less from a genius, I always say. So what brings you back to these parts? Aren't you supposed to be saving someone's life right now?"

Kogure smiled at the joke. "You're exactly right, and that someone's life is mine."

The grin disappeared from Sakuragi. "Man, don't tell me you've got something bad."

Assurance.

"No, no, that's not what I really meant… I'm just trying to get my mind off some things, that's all."

The redhead eyed his companion with a cocked brow. "Something or some_one_?"

Awe.

"… It's a little of both… Wow, Sakuragi, how'd you know?"

"Call it a hunch. I've been through crazier shit with Mitsui before."

Pause.

"So… don't tell me you got a girl that came back from the dead, too."

Chuckle.

"No, nothing like that."

Scratch.

"Okay, I'm not really good at advice, but this is all I know about girls… they're beautiful to look at, they smell nice, and you feel like shit when they cry."

Sigh.

"You know, I really wish it was as simple as that."

"And why wouldn't it be?"

Kogure looked to the ground and gave himself a moment. His former teammate was right: why wouldn't it be? Just the fact of the matter that the woman he fell for was being hounded by another resident at the hospital doesn't really change things, does it? After all, when it comes down to it, it is ultimately her choice to do whatever she wants, and that includes choosing a suitor. So why does it bother him so much to play the nice guy and leave things as they are now?

"You gotta show them you want them, ya know."

Kogure lifted his gaze back at the redhead, now dribbling the basketball before palming it in one hand, his lips almost curled up as if to smile. "If you meet a woman who gets your blood running like you're on fire and you can't go through the rest of the day without thinking of her at least twenty, thirty times… you might want to consider keeping her."

Taking his glasses off, Kogure wiped his brow on his sleeve. "That's just the thing, Sakuragi. It's not like she's mine to keep or anything. Isn't that her choice, more than anything?"

The center shrugged. "That's true and all… but, you gotta be honest with yourself, Spec Boy. Humans are selfish creatures, and I'm sure the thought of having her all to yourself has crossed your mind at least once."

Kogure unconsciously sighed at his friend's comment. _Try every time she passes me in the hallways… _

Dribble.

"It's not like you're going to hurt yourself trying to get her to be your girlfriend…"

Shadow fake.

"Well, at least not physically."

Stepback.

"You've always been a good defender, Kogure-senpai."

Aim.

"But without the girl, you've got nothing to lose, but every thing to gain."

Downtown shot.

"Understand what I'm saying?"

_Swish._

Kogure blinked. He didn't know what to be impressed about first: the fact that Sakuragi just made a three-pointer, or the words that just came from his mouth. He knew that the redhead was extremely talented, but never in a million years would he have expected to be schooled by Sakuragi on relationships like he wrote a book about it. He was shaken from his stupefied admiration when his former teammate threw him the basketball.

"I'd love to stick around, but if I'm not at the gym in the next ten minutes, Haruko will have me running laps till my legs give out. See you around, Spec Boy!" Sakuragi broke into a run, but before getting out of earshot, added, "And maybe next time, you can introduce me to your new girlfriend!"

Kogure couldn't even shout out his thanks quick enough for the redhead to hear, he already cleared the intersection and nearly mowed down several middleschoolers on their skateboards. The small smile on his face quickly grew into a grin as he retrieved his basketball and sat on the bench, understanding exactly what Sakuragi implied. Because he was so busy being the nice guy, he overlooked the fact that he was only torturing himself by letting himself watch whom his heart had longed for so long be pulled ever so farther away from him. Replacing the ball in his gym bag, he guzzled the remaining contents of his water bottle and walked away from the court, Kogure for the first time taking steps with a resolve he didn't know could exist outside of winning at a sport he loved.

If she wasn't shown an incentive before, he would give her one now. He was tired of sitting on the bench, it was time to make a move.

Time to go on the offense.

* * *

The tea leaves at the bottom of the cup swayed slowly as they settled in the warm undercurrents of water, their shape and orientation holding a peculiar interest to the holder of the cup. And what were they telling her? 

"Something bad is going to happen."

Ayumi frowned at the forecast. Since when did she believe in tea leaf fortunetelling? Letting out a sigh, she raised her gaze at the sound of her name being called out by a very happy Nanami.

"Hey, I'm sorry I'm late…" she paused, allowing herself to catch her breath. "There was a pregnant lady whose water broke at my bus stop. I ended up helping her into a cab, but she clung onto my shoulder so tightly that I was forced to ride with her all the way to the hospital."

Ayumi smiled at the wrinkled spot on her niece's blouse. "Did she and the baby make it there okay?"

"Yeah, she had twins, a boy and a girl." Nanami seated herself across her aunt and looked around for a server with a menu. "And the only reason why I know is because she had my shoulder the whole time, and when the husband came, she grabbed his shoulder, too."

Laughter bubbled from Ayumi's throat. "You poor thing!"

"No, no, don't get me wrong, I was glad to be there."

Waitress.

"I mean, I only had to lend my shoulder for a bit, and I'd like to think I'm strong enough to take that little lady's grip."

Menu.

"But the husband, the husband not only had to give up his shoulder, he had to take all the obscenities and the threats his wife hurled at him!"

A second.

"I'd like to have a white chocolate mocha, please."

Having taken the order, the waitress left their table. Nanami looked down to inspect her wrinkled shirt, all the while Ayumi laughing quietly at her niece. "It seems that the craziest things happen to you. How do you do it?"  
The setter shrugged. "Dunno. Someone up there likes me, I guess. At least something good came out of that crazy event. They named the baby daughter after me."

Ayumi leaned closer in elation. "That's so awesome!"  
"I know, right? And they asked me for my phone number so they can cook me dinner to thank me properly." Nanami grinned. "I think I'll go buy a cute outfit for the daughter."

"And for the boy?"  
"Maybe you can help me with that later."

The waitress arrived at their table and placed Nanami's order before her, the setter taking the spoon and stirring the coffee before sipping. "So, what's been going on with you? I haven't seen you in two weeks."

It was Ayumi's turn to shrug, her eyes averting to the passersby on the sidewalk. "Oh, you know, the usual… making food… baking cakes…" _Trying to run away from blind dates…_

The setter easily read her face. "Grandma and Grandpa did it again, didn't they?" When Nanami heard no answer, she put the coffee cup down, her irritation showing with the loud clink of the cup against the saucer. "When are you going to tell them to stop doing this to you? Can't they see that it's really bothering you?"  
Her companion laughed dryly. "They're getting old, Nanami. They don't listen to reason as easily as before."

"What are you talking about? They _don't_ listen to reason, period! I love them and all, but why are they in such a hurry for you to find somebody? It's not like _they're_ marrying the guy."

Ayumi sighed. "All these things you're saying, I've thought and said them out loud before, to the brink of insanity."

"Then why don't you tell them once and for all that all the guys they're setting you up with are complete morons and lechers? Remember that guy who—"

"Let's not talk about that, or any other blind dates for that matter. As long as I live under their roof, I abide by their rules, and that includes me playing their games."

Nanami pushed her coffee aside to reach over the table to her Ayumi's arms. "Then move out. Move out and live with me." Answered with a shake of her head, she pressed for assent. "My apartment's big enough! I only use a third of the closet space."

Bit lip.

"And the kitchen is well-equipped, you can make anything you want in it. Death by chocolate on demand, anytime!"

Ayumi bent her lips into a painful smile. "I can't let you get fat."

Frustrated.

"Ugh, think about that later, let's just get you out of there!"

Patting the hands that were trying to comfort her, Ayumi leaned even closer toward her niece and replied in a low, gentle voice. "Nanami-chan, you know I can't leave them in that house… they're getting old. As much as they deny it, my eyes don't fool me when they try to do normal everyday things around the house. Dad can't even reach for the pans in the top cabinets anymore, and Mom has a hard time just pruning her rosebushes… one time they forgot to turn off the stove, and another time they left the water running in the kitchen. I know they're being unreasonable, but it's a petty matter to go along with what they say as long as I know they're taken care of."

A frustrated sigh.

"But Ayumi…"

Another pat.

"It's all right. It's just dinner, a meal shared with someone else. Lots of people do it all the time."

Whining.

"But you don't even want to, it's not fair!"

Ayumi took her niece's coffee cup and replaced it before her. "Drink your coffee, sweetie, it's getting cold." She found the pout on Nanami's face funny. "I know we can find something else to talk about other than Mom and Dad. You always have lots of stories to tell me, so, go ahead and tell me one. A happy one."

Nanami tried to push aside the grumpiness about her and peered down at the steam rising from her cup. "Well… Ayako-chan asked me if you could give them a price quote for catering dessert for their wedding reception." Hearing her aunt laugh at her sulking behavior, she watched her push back and lean into her seat, sighing gratefully for the subject change as she slowly slid her fingers across the glossy finish of the table in lazy figure eights, the wheels in her head turning.

"Really… how many people?"

* * *

"Yes yes, precisely," Yoshi said as he nodded in agreement with the person on the other line. "Two weeks from now will not be a problem at all. If no acts of God occur by then and all the waitstaff are in good health, things should go smoothly." The old man scribbled more notes onto a pad, and after voicing his regards, he hung up the telephone and replaced the pen inside the reservation book. He swung his gaze at the opening of the double doors to see Jackson saunter in with hands in his pockets, looking a little out of sorts. The proprietor was pleased nonetheless, although he took note of it. 

"I'm glad you could come. It seems that there is more to my favor than I had expected."

So unbecoming of the large guard, Jackson let out a sigh and shook his head. "I can't believe I'm letting you string me along like this," he uttered, more to himself than to his older colleague. Yoshi rounded the reservation desk with a puckish grin that made his companion even more suspicious. "So just tell me about it already, old man."

"Hey, it's not like it will be _that_ unpleasant. And besides, this is linked to a request your boss just made, so I think it would be best if we kept all parties happy. Don't you?"

"All right, okay, I already agreed to doing this… so what do I have to do?"

Yoshi laughed. "Come now, there's no need to rush things! The first reservation won't be for another forty-five minutes, drink some tea with me for the time being."

Jackson merely nodded and followed the old proprietor to the piano bar, the sentinel claiming a bar stool at the far end of the bar where Yoshi prepared the tea before his debriefing. As they waited for the tea to steep in a pot of elegant china, Yoshi felt an air of hesitation about the guard, Jackson looking out to the lake as he tapped a tea spoon against his thick palm.

"Are things all right with Nakamichi-dono?" he asked nonchalantly, already knowing his answer, although he didn't expect the man to take so long to reply.

"Jackson?"

Swinging his head at his older colleague, he suddenly remembered he was being asked something. "Nakamichi-dono? Yes, yes, she's fine."

The slight frown on Yoshi's face was fleeting, but he brushed the uncharacteristic inattentiveness of the large guard. Taking the pot, he poured tea into Jackson's cup first before filling his, and as the steam rose into the space between them, Yoshi spoke.

"Hn… You know, Jackson… you don't have to do this. I picked you because you seem to get along with her the best."

Jackson nodded again. "I know… and it's okay, I don't think I mind so much now… So, what will you have me do?"  
A thoughtful pause.

"Last night my pastry chef pulled me aside and told me that he needs to go back to his hometown to help care for his aging parents. Permanently. His father was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease and it's been hard on his mother. So, as of tomorrow, I have no pastry chef."

Understanding.

"I made a deal with a wonderful young lady who has helped me in the past with dessert prep that if I helped her out of an undesired situation, she would gladly help me with the next big event I have, and that event will be in two weeks."

Leaning forward.

"You heard her talk in the grocery store about it before, do you remember?"  
Quick recollection.

"Cinderella in Gucci shoes."

"Yes. And it seems that Cinderella is too sweet to refuse all these blind dates her parents set her up with... and she desperately needs to get away from them."

"And this is where I come in."

A nod.

"I have no particular preference how it happens, all I know is that you're the perfect man for the job, because this is what you do for a living."

Subdued amusement.

"Whisk damsels in distress away from harassing princes?"

Yoshi took his time to sip and savor the tea before shaking his head.

"Rescuing people from unfortunate events."

Jackson glowered cynically at his tea cup, haunting images of debris, burning fuel and seawater crashing all about him within a blink of his eyes. "I think everyone knows I've had a pretty bad track record with that, Yoshi." He quickly placed the cup to his lips and drank, hoping that the hot liquid would stifle the bile that threatened to rise to his throat, the recollection of yelling into open water amidst destruction wrenching his insides.

"Surely by now you've come to understand that you are no superhero and there are events that are just out of your control."

The guard sighed yet again. "I know… it's, it's just…"

Yoshi saw the same uneasiness that wrinkled his brow. Since when did Jackson stutter?

"I don't know… there's something about her that doesn't sit well with me."

"Then I'll ask one of the others to do it—"

"No, that's okay. I'll do it."

The old proprietor was silenced by his resolute tone, and after looking at his profile through the steam from his teacup, he had a kernel of an idea what was going through the large man's head. "How long has it been, Jackson?"

It served no purpose for naïve pretense, the butler knew him all too well. Closing his eyes, his deep voice faltered. "… Perhaps not long enough."

Yoshi paused before drinking his tea, a mixture of sympathy and pity spreading within him as the hot liquid coursed down his throat. Only a person who had been in service long enough with the Nakamichi family could understand the attachments Jackson had with them, especially with the first-born siren Midori. The former butler had but a few glimpses of the guard with her, but their actions spoke volumes of the tenderness between them. The way his hand lingered to hold hers after ushering her in and out of vehicles. The short gap between them when he accompanied her on walks during family picnics in the park. The doting manner in which she dried his drenched face with a handkerchief once after running inside the house from a downpour. It was a muted, very private relationship they shared, one that required acute perception to see past the few seconds of proximity between them and comprehend the devotion Jackson had to Midori. And after the tragedy that happened so many years ago, the guard became a toy soldier thrown into an oven of regret and forged into a walking weapon of steel, with slivers of pain in his chest where a living heart once existed. Yoshi wanted to believe it still existed, though he was wise enough not to encroach beyond Jackson's defenses. He thought himself too old to be trifling with younger people's feelings.

It was just a favor, one that would greatly help Yoshi run his restaurant more efficiently. But now, more than he'd like to admit, the old man secretly hoped that something more would take root within the barren borders of the guard's being.

The proprietor pursed his lips as he rested a cheek against one hand, the other taking hold of the tea pot.

"It's not too late to back out, Jackson."

Pour.

Silence.

"I know."

Expectant glance.

Certainty.

"Tell me all the details."

* * *

Eyeing the weight suspended by a custom-made pulley system, Mitsui strained for control and concentration with every fiber of his musculature as the pulleys creaked with tension, sweat pouring from his pores as his eyes beheld keen pools of blue that inched lower and lower to his supine body. He had undergone grueling workouts in the past, lifting weights twice his mass that left him aching and sore, but never did he have to struggle against the weight of the human being descending ever so slowly and merely millimeters away from his chest, their bodies almost flush against each other. His gaze moved down to her lips and he cursed himself for knowing just how incredibly sweet and intoxicating those lips were to kiss, as if he'd tasted forbidden fruit of addiction and obsession; she was so close, the temptation to press his mouth against hers was as great as the strain in his muscles. 

It was the most punishing, most exquisite torture he had ever had the choice of going through, especially when the weight he was suspending was the most striking creature he had ever laid his eyes on. And for this reason, he pushed himself to the limit.

Whisper.

"Just one more… you can do it, Mitsui-san…"

Suppressed groan.

He was used to getting encouragement from Miyagi during lifting workouts, if one could call name-calling and yelling encouragement, but Reiko's words were so earnest and unpretentious that he could only obey and strain for that last press for release. If he lost control and let go of the weight, Reiko would be reeled rapidly back up and risk the hooks that suspended her to come undone and send her crashing into the shooting guard. He was made aware of this even before the exercise, the goal for his awareness to ensure proper execution of muscular control and mental concentration. He couldn't let her fall, and giving into his temptations was out of the question.

Growl.

"Almost there…"

He couldn't deny the fact that this was draining him of energy yet exciting him at the same time, his eyes sliding shut as the gap between them closed, her body gently lowering and finally resting atop his, the arms that controlled the pulleys giving out when their cargo lay securely against him, his chest heaving violently for air.

For a fleeting moment, Reiko turned her head beside his to whisper in his ear.

"Your strength is amazing, Mitsui-san."

He knew it was an innocent compliment, but oh! He felt so teased and exhausted at the same time, he couldn't force himself to wrap his arms around her even if he wanted to, they hung like dead weights that dangled on either side of him. He didn't know whether to be grateful or feel bereft of the warmth against him as she pushed against the bench that now supported them both, a thin film of sweat covering her skin from previous exertions of that night's workout session.

She was smiling at him.

/ _Dear God, lead me not into temptation… /_

Mitsui held her gaze, praying that she never know just how wayward his thoughts were with every minute of their workout. / _I am only human… _/ He was just thankful that it was over. Reiko handed him his towel and he gladly took it, burying his face in it to hide the desire looming in his eyes. Yoshikawa's voice came on the intercom, telling them that they were done for the night, and that Reiko was needed in the medical wing for data collection.

Under the pressure of hot water pounding against him, Mitsui ran a soothing hand over his aching shoulders, wincing when his fingers palpated a string of painful knots at the base of his neck. There was no doubt that this rigorous training was making him stronger; he had bulked up considerably ever since he agreed to train with the guards. He couldn't fit into some of his shirts anymore. Mitsui didn't think he'd last more than an hour the way they were running him ragged, but as surprising and mysterious as the effects of the little drinks Yoshikawa provided, Mitsui was awed at the huge improvement on stamina. Why he had to go through this kind of workout everyday, he didn't really understand, but then again, he didn't really care. He got to spend every waking moment with her, and that was all that mattered. Those blueprints could collect dust on his desk for all he cared.

* * *

Outside the medical wing, three guards paced by the double doors, Sakai periodically peering through the rectangular glass windows of the doors. Out the same doors emerged the lab coordinator with a mess of papers and graphs in one hand, his head cradled in the other. The distress in his features was evident, the man's brows furrowing at the numbers printed on the sheets. 

"Is something the matter, Yoshikawa-san?"  
The spectacled man snapped his head up at Miller, a look of worry glossing over his tired features. He took a moment to gather himself, quietly clearing his throat. "I… I have a lot to look over."

"What's wrong?" Fuji asked, walking to the lab coordinator's side and looking down at the papers. Yoshikawa shook his head.

"I don't know… I don't know anymore… Her stats have been what we've expected them to be in the past week, but…"

It was Sakai's turn to step forward. "But what?"

Yoshikawa was lost in thought.

"But what, Yoshikawa-san?" prodded the older guard, his tone a little more insistent.

After what seemed like minutes of silence, Yoshikawa took off his glasses and rubbed the fatigue from his eyes, his gaze more focused as he spoke. "We have done nothing but subject her through intense physical exertion these past few days… and it's only understandable that metabolic turnover would increase just as much—"

"Speak layman's terms, Yoshikawa-san."

A pause.

"… It used to be that she couldn't keep up with us, and not even an hour in the immersion chamber brought about a high toxin yield and total exhaustion. But, these numbers… these numbers are telling me that with the increase in metabolic rate from her training, her toxin level is spilling over threshold, and the toxins leached through the process aren't clearing fast enough out of her body as it did before."

Miller's eyes grew wide. "In other words…"

"She's no longer responding to treatment," ended Fuji, his gaze remaining fixed on the lab coordinator's data.

Sakai held up his hands. "Now, wait a minute. Let's not jump to conclusions. This could be a number of factors. Maybe if we changed her workout a bit, or tweak the substrate mix, or change the current—"

"I know, Sakai-san, I know… but I can assure you right now that the problem lies not within the immersion process."

All guards were silenced by Yoshikawa's assumption, the lab coordinator taking another moment to think before reaching into his lab coat for a small two-way communicator. "As soon as Nakamichi-dono is out of the tank, I need all of you to meet at the conference room. Bring all data sticks dating from the last two weeks to date. Show her no cause for concern."

Reiko's sentry didn't like where any of this was going. For all they knew, their charge was in good shape and spirits now that Mitsui was inseparable from her. What could possibly be wrong now?

They watched as the lab coordinator walked down the hallway, his posture rigid and gait slow as he reached the doors to the conference room, the man's white coat catching as one of the doors closed behind him, the faint sound of cotton ripping heard through the quiet hallway. Fuji slowly shook his head as his hand fished his pant pocket for keys.

"I think the ground just got yanked from underneath Yoshikawa's feet."

Miller and Sakai silently agreed as they looked through the glass windows once more, seeing Reiko fully clothed and being ushered out of the main lab. There was a subdued emotion that lay within the depths of her eyes, this time their hue blending the same coloration as Miller's racing suit. The younger guard attributed it to fatigue. The older one recognized it as something else.

Restlessness.

As they escorted her to the vehicle where Mitsui waited, Sakai couldn't help but wonder if Reiko could feel what the lab coordinator was worrying about. From his recollection, the fewer toxins her body released, the more horrific her reactions were to physical strain. And lately, the strain was as extreme as it could get. To what extent her body could withstand, he didn't know.

He was afraid to know.

Strapping the seat belt over him, the older guard silently thanked God for Jackson's absence, Sakai blinking at the darkness of the night as he imagined how his large colleague would've reacted to Yoshikawa's revelation.

* * *

Disarray in the conference room. 

"No! I cannot and _will not_ allow her to exercise under such stimulation. Have you forgotten how she reacts to operatic songs? She's already pushing one hundred and fifty percent on the field! We pushed her to the brink before, and you're asking us to knock on death's door now? Absolutely not!"

Rebuttal.

"But we can't just ignore these toxin values! Little by little they are coating her organs, and if we don't come up with a way to leach them out, she won't have to knock on death's door, we will be responsible for handing her over on a silver platter!"

"And risk pushing her to the point of no resuscitation?"

"It's a feasible risk, we have no choice! If we don't try, the toxin build-up will slowly kill her. If we proceed, we have at least a fifty percent success rate in removing over half of the toxins now."

Shaking heads.

"There is no guarantee that we can produce that high of a result."

"We haven't even tried yet!"

Exasperation.

"And what do you suppose we do? Wait till her system's so saturated she can't even recover?"

Back and forth the arguments ensued, fists banged on the polished wooden table and hands gesticulated madly at each other. Listening to the heated arguments in quiet patience, Yoshikawa fished his lab pockets for gum. Finding none, he dug in his pants pocket. Still none. Annoyed, he picked up his courier bag and searched the outer pockets first, making the bickering lab coats pause in their arguments to watch their coordinator fish madly for the object. Yoshikawa finally opened the bag and dumped all the contents out on the table, taking his colleagues aback as he picked through the debris of papers, pens and at last, a small box of gum. Ripping the small package open, he hastily took a foil pack of six and popped two in his mouth, throwing the pack carelessly onto the clutter in front of him before walking up to the window that overlooked the exercise lawn. All were dumbfounded, for the entire time since the meeting started, the bespectacled man showed only silent composure, not the frenzied show of impatience that was displayed. None of them dared to say anything at the moment, the soft chewing noise from Yoshikawa's mouth the only thing audible in the conference room. It wasn't for a while until they realized the words printed on the small box.

_Nicotine polacrilex._

Hearing a disgruntled sigh from the lab coordinator, they waited for someone to speak, or for any distraction that would jolt them out of the surprise that Yoshikawa was a quitting smoker.

"I quit smoking fifteen years ago, ever since I was diagnosed with acute liver failure."

It was a sobering confession, prompting his companions to hold their tongues altogether. Usually soft-spoken, reserved and even-tempered, Yoshikawa was well-respected in his field, not just for his knowledge and acumen, but also for his incredible intuition. Never before had he revealed anything about himself and with the uncharacteristic display of edginess earlier, no one was willing to utter a single word that could provoke the same from happening again.

Another sigh.

"Whether you were handpicked by Dr. Nakamichi himself, or had some kind of connection with the Nakamichi family in the past, it's all the same. The fact of the matter is that all of us have some kind of reason for being here, be it personal or financial."

Pause.

"I'm going to tell you mine."

Yoshikawa calmly faced the rest of his colleagues and untucked his dress shirt, lifting it up until it showed his tummy, revealing a large scar that spanned over half of the upper quadrant of his abdomen.

"This is my reason. In many ways, I understand what Nakamichi-dono is going through, because I went through it, too. I was eighteen when my liver failed. It was a rare genetic disorder, and I needed a new liver." He let his shirt down and fixed his gaze at the mess of data sheets that lay in front of them. "My family was in dire straits, and despite the chances of getting a transplant with my age, there was no way my family could have paid for such an expensive operation."

His audience listened intently as the lab coordinator's eyes closed at the recollection of the past.

"One night while they thought I was asleep on the hospital bed, I overheard my mother sobbing frantically to my father, begging him not to do something, I didn't know. Later on I found out that my father planned to shoot himself so that the doctors could use his liver to replace mine, because his was the most compatible with my blood type and immune system."

Stunned silence.

"It was years later, long after I had my operation and recovered well, that I learned of what really happened. When I went to visit the doctor who operated on me to thank him for saving my life, the nurse who assisted in my operation recognized me, and later told me that Nakamichi-dono's mother happened to overhear my father's plan to give me his liver while she was getting a drink of water from a fountain next to my room in the hospital. Reiko-chan's father personally stopped Dad from ending his life, and financial arrangements were made with the staff doctors and the hospital to ensure a successful operation and complete recovery. My parents never had to pay a penny of the bills, the Nakamichis footed them all without a single hesitation. They refused to take any money my parents tried to repay them, their only request was for my father to live long enough to see me grow healthy and strong. That was repayment enough for them."

Yoshikawa took his bag and replaced all of his dumped belongings one by one into his courier bag, leaving the pack of gum out.

"My parents still cry whenever they think back to what the Nakamichis had done for us… for me. Whether it was pure luck that the Nakamichis happened to be there that night, or that Reiko-chan's mother got thirsty and happened to drink from the water fountain next to my room, I don't know. God works too mysteriously for any one of us to understand. What matters now," he paused to pick up the pack of gum, "is that I am alive to tell you all this, and to chew this infernal thing in my mouth in an attempt to calm my nerves down."

Resolve.

"I cannot let this young lady die."

Breathe.

"Not while I'm still alive. Not even when I'm long gone."

Stand.

"Dr. Nakamichi gave us a gene map for her survival, it's taken us this far. All the options you have discussed teeter on extremes, and all of them are too high-risk. We can't have that."

Silence.

Hesitation.

"What can we do, Yoshikawa-san?" one of the lab coats petered out. "Her toxin level—"

"Will hold at a feasible level even if we discontinue the exercises for now." Yoshikawa didn't like interrupting people, but with only two hours of sleep and a decreasing concentration of caffeine in his system, he was getting more irritable by the second. "Dr. Nakamichi was right on the dot when he looked to the nervous system for maximum toxin yield, but we've hit a plateau with our results and even regressed back to low yields as demonstrated in the last set of data."

Chew.

"I had a bad feeling her system would get desensitized to the music. But don't get me wrong, we still need it, and we need Yohei-san to vary the tempo and type at certain parts of her workout. So now, gentlemen…" he paused as he leaned his weight against the table, "what do we know about the autonomic nervous system?"

"Sympathetic, fight-or-flight."

"Parasympathetic is to relax."

Nod.

"Simple enough, right? Let's look at what we've done so far. We've exposed her to all kinds of nervous stimulation under our study, even her reaction to the food we made her eat was recorded. We've given her a reason to fight on the field, and we've seen the catastrophic side effect of music. She's run away before, resulting in, surprisingly, only a fractured clavicle with some minor scrapes and bruises. Note that in most of these instances, the main autonomic branch stimulated is the sympathetic."

The rest of the lab coats leaned eagerly towards their coordinator, easily following his train of thought.

"And now we need stimulation of the parasympathetics. But how are we going to do that?"

"Get her to lounge in a chair with a piña colada and chill out."

Suppressed laughter.

Yoshikawa kept silent and let his colleagues to bounce ideas across the room, pushing off the table and now standing erect. How many pieces of gum did it take to calm himself enough to think, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that the possible solution he found was something completely out of their control. He wasn't surprised that none of them uttered what he was thinking, because frankly, had it not been for his third shot of vodka the other night, the idea would've never come to him. So when he finally voiced his suggestion after his colleagues ran out of ideas, he was met with thunderstruck looks and wide-eyed stares.

* * *

Mitsui roused to the wet sensation that grazed his cheek, and he found Reiko's dog standing on its hind legs against the couch to reach his face. Grinning, he sat up and to pet the corgi, only to find Reiko slumped against the armrest of the couch, on her lap a pillow where his head had been. He frowned at the picture. She deserved better than being made a resting place for his head, and he berated himself for it. 

"Reiko-san," he called softly, his arms moving to carry her languid form from the couch. When all he heard was a mumble, he slowly lifted her up and carefully carried her to her room, barks from the dog lightly rousing her. Blinking a few more times before realizing she was being transported, she stiffened and her arms reflexively clung around Mitsui's neck.

"I'm sorry for waking you," he whispered as he went up the steps. "And for always making a pillow out of your lap every time."

She smiled drowsily. "That is hardly worth apologizing for. I… I think this workout regimen has been quite strenuous for us…" she trailed off, fighting the urge to yawn. "I am finding myself more exhausted as of late..."

"That's because you've been working awfully hard," he said, recalling how quick and agile she was on the exercise field during a dodging exercise that involved all her guards' including Mitsui's cooperation. The image of her shapely form descending upon him suddenly crept out of nowhere, and he took a deep breath in the hopes of purging the thought out of his mind. She took the sigh as a sign of fatigue. He was going through much harsher lifting exercises, after all.

"It's all right now, Mitsui-san, I can walk up by myself."

"It's okay, we're almost there," he declared, a slight hint of protest in his voice. He wasn't completely ready to withdraw his touch from her, and when he got to the top of the stairs, he realized he didn't want to.

* * *

"You do realize that… we can't very well be there if and when the event takes place, Yoshikawa-san." 

A nod.

"Understood. And that is why the reserve chamber at the house must be modified to the simplest of ways. The less complicated it is, the easier it will be to manipulate."

Hesitation.

"…Don't you think it's rather awkward… for us to ask such a thing?"

Sigh.

"Yes… yes, it is. But… we're at the end of our rope, we have to take this chance."

Acquiescence.

A long pause.

"So… who's going to tie that bell around the cat's neck?"

* * *

Letting out a groan after being deposited gently on her bed, Reiko covered her mouth to yawn as Mitsui draped a blanket over her languid form, all the while chanting a mantra of self-control and fortitude with each breath he took. 

"Mitsui-san… could you please take… an electrode patch from the… top drawer of the night table?"

Mitsui paused with concern at Reiko before doing as she asked, finding the patch and handing it to her. "Here you go."

No answer.

"Reiko-san?"

She had fallen back asleep. With a small smile, he sat on the edge of the bed beside her. "Maybe the electrode can wait till tomorrow?" he suggested in a low timbre, his gaze drinking in the peaceful state of her face.

"Hn? Oh… now is fine… thank you." She roused herself long enough to straighten her posture and unzip the black warm-up jacket they gave her to wear after their workout, only to fall back asleep with the zipper halfway down her chest. The sight of porcelain skin exposed under the soft lines of her tank top made it more difficult for the shooting guard to breathe.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this." 

Eyeing the front doors of a nightclub in the Ginza district, he drummed his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel before glancing at his watch.

Eleven twenty-four.

It was expected that with a little detective work, he would find Yoshi's replacement pastry chef in the time it took to brush one's teeth. In other words, less than a minute. Surveillance was his line of work after all.

So why wasn't he pleased about it?

Driver's door opened.

Could it be because he didn't think she would go to a club after eating at a posh French restaurant?

Closed.

And even if she would, why go to one called Devil's Gate?

Disbelief.

She was more of a conservative by his estimation. A jazz bar, maybe, but not a hip-hop joint. It just didn't add up, though it really didn't matter anymore, because he was going to have to get past the gate's bouncer and snatch her from her date's clutches.

Jackson scowled at the huge man now nursing a bloody nose on the cold marble floor of the entryway, still in shock on who or what hit him as the guard walked over him and through a dark hallway strewn with people grinding and drinking. Jackson had to orient himself for a moment, the dim lighting and quaking bass of the music making it difficult to spot his target. Clenching his jaw at the sea of people moving to the beat, he had to avoid being pushed back by a wave of dancing bodies as his eyes scanned the reveling crowd, all the while the same thought kept echoing again and again through his mind.

_Ayumi's pastries better be worth it._

* * *

_The sooner I get away, the sooner I can breathe._

But he really didn't want to do that. He began to tuck her under the covers, trying to think of other things to sway his mind away from a hunger he was having a hard time in suppressing.

Stir.

"… need data…"

Confusion.

"What?"  
Mumble.

"…The patch… need for data… right here…"

The shooting guard's heart jumped to his throat when he saw her hand push away the blanket over her and lift her tank top to reveal an electrode patch coming undone, right underneath the left breast. He didn't know what to say, he couldn't hear himself think with the pounding of his blood through his head.

"Um… okay… I… Reiko-san… maybe it could wait till tomorrow?" /_ Please…! _/

She was too drowsy to detect the restraint in his voice and proceeded to unzip and remove her jacket, Mitsui's jaw clenching as his eyes slid shut the moment she began to lift her shirt once more. He waited several moments before peeking at her, only to find her fumbling at the plastic edge of the electrode's adhesive. Holding his breath, he gently pushed her fingers aside and peeled the adhesive backing off, turning around as soon as she reclaimed the electrode.

"I guess they'd be pretty worried if they didn't—"

Sharp gasp.

He craned his head to find Reiko biting her lip, immediately alarming him. "Are you all right? Do you feel—"

"Cold," she faltered, one hand lingering against the attached electrode under her shirt and the other supporting her as she sat up. A smile of relief crept across Mitsui's face, for with her he was used to expecting the worst, and he was silently grateful that she was not in a state of undress. He began to gather the covers over her once more, pretending that it was his little sister he was tucking into bed and not the irresistible woman of his dreams that his fingers yearned to touch.

"Mitsui-san, thank you for working so hard."

Her gratitude made him look at her in wonder. "But I hardly did anything."

Blink.

"But you _do_ work quite hard… and even now you are seeing to my wellbeing."

She wasn't making it any easier for him to run away, he thought. "This isn't work. You take care of those you love. And you," he paused to will his heart to slow and hid his restraint behind a smile, "I definitely love." He just about melted with the smile she gave him as she angled her head to return his gaze.

"Mitsui-san… sometimes I am afraid that one day I will wake up and find all of this a dream… like it was in the past."

He had no words to reply, Mitsui could only stand by the bedside and watch her reach for his hand.

Another smile.

"Yes, you are definitely real."

Without thinking, he moved to close the gap between them and sat on the bed, half-amused by her small confession and completely awestruck that she felt the same disappointment and despair of waking up alone after dreams of being of a loved one. It took a few seconds to realize that for Reiko, it must have been on an inestimable scale, for she already knew what it was like to lose every one she loved once. He tried to will his mouth to open and say something; instead, she found them for him.

"To be with you again, Mitsui-san," she said, eyeing the scar by his chin, "it is like being given a second chance. I should be so lucky." She let out a small sigh before reaching up to trace warm fingers against the wounded skin, only to retract them upon contact, Reiko immediately sitting up. "Are you all right, Mitsui-san?" she asked, now playing her hand on his forehead. "You seem to be running a fever, you are very warm."

/ _Who wouldn't burn up after being told all that? _/

Finally regaining nerve to his tongue, he enclosed the hand that touched him in his. "I was wrong… I didn't know…"

Questioning blue eyes.

"I didn't think that you… that you felt the same way… the same _exact_ way I do about you…"

"I'm afraid I don't under—"

"Yes, yes you do… and I… it's overwhelming to find out that you know what it is I feel."

Mitsui felt the ring that enclosed her finger and looked down at it, and Reiko could only watch as he placed a kiss against the back of her hand before molding her palm against his cheek, her brow slightly furrowing at the wetness that was forming in his eyes. He thought that he was the only one whose love burned with a greater intensity. / _How selfish of me to think that…_ /

"Overwhelming," he repeated, choking back the emotion that threatened to break his composure. Unsure of what to say, Reiko took her other hand to touch his chin once more, as if to offer some relief to old scars she thought had reopened, biting her lip at the unconscious insult may have dealt him with her words.

"… Have I offended you?" she whispered, her eyes trained on his chin, reluctant to look at him.

At this Mitsui sighed and smiled, forcing her to return his gaze with the tilt of her chin. She was taken aback when he kissed her, eyes wide at first, then slowly sliding shut as he pressed forward. Her politeness was charming, and her innocence disarming; he wanted to take in all that poured from her mouth, all her words, the emotions behind them, he wanted to drown in it all. So lost were they in each other that it startled Mitsui to find himself sprawled on top of her, her chest heaving for air when he forced himself to break contact.

* * *

A panel of blinking red lights lit up the flat screens that signaled panic in one of the younger white coats on the night shift. He fumbled for the two-way radio that initially fell from his grasp before pressing on the button, his voice an incoherent crack. 

"Yoshikawa-san…"

Static.

Nothing.

His panic mounted when he heard no response and was about to speak into the radio again when a response finally aired.

"Yes, I'm here, what's going on?"  
"Lights are flashing all over the place! I don't even know where to start! Her temperature's at a hundred and two and—"

"I'm on my way."

The lab coordinator abruptly stopped his car and turned around, back to the lab where he's been for the past forty-eight hours straight. As he drove through the front gates, a dozen possibilities of what could go wrong flooded his mind, and Yoshikawa grit his teeth in worry, silently praying for more time.

* * *

Recognition. 

There, past the dancing silhouettes against the far wall, was a woman struggling to wrench her wrist from a much larger man's grasp. Jackson's brow furrowed in irritation. The man clearly did not understand the word 'no'.

A sober person would have noticed the parting of bodies as the hulking guard made his way through the crowd, if not voluntarily, then as flung projectiles on either side, Jackson finally getting close enough to hear what Ayumi had been fervently saying at the top of her lungs.

"No, I said let me go, you brute!"

Maniacal laughter.

"If you don't do as I say, your business will be in the toilet!"

"And if you don't let her go, your face will _be_ in a toilet."

Ayumi's head quickly craned over her shoulder, a wave of shock and relief for Jackson's presence, his features more incensed now at the sight of tears that streamed down her face. Within a split second, the bodyguard grabbed the offending man's neck, slammed him against the wall and punched the arm that held onto Ayumi's arm. Panting in pain for air, he finally let go, only to be assailed with a flurry of punches to the abdomen that sent him slumping to the ground.

"Wait here," he told Ayumi before dragging the man into the men's restroom, puzzled looks and laughter erupting from the immediate people around them.

Toilet flush.

"If you ever come within a ten-mile radius of her, I will beat you into a pulp small enough to go down that toilet."

Watery cough.

"This is your only warning. I won't be so generous the next time."

When he emerged from the restroom, the guard found Ayumi holding her wrist, her arms close to her body as if to shelter herself from the pain. She jumped at his light tap on her shoulder before turning to him, the tears on her cheeks now dried but still threatening to spill from her eyes, the distress clearly readable from her face. Jackson reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and gave it to her, completely at a loss for words, partly because he didn't know what to say to her, and partly because he had to calm himself down, so infuriated was he at her lecherous companion he thought about going back to the restroom to kick the man a few more times.

"…Thank you…" she whimpered, looking down at the handkerchief before taking possession of it. Jackson motioned for her to hold his hand, and as soon as she did, he led her out of the club, the beating waves of base coaxing the sobs to escape from her throat.

* * *

The flurry of blinking lights abruptly disappeared from the data panels save for a single solitary red light, Yoshikawa and his colleagues audibly gasping at the sight and their swift manipulations over the control panel keys quickly froze to a halt. 

_Link disengaged_.

"What the hell is happening?" the lab coordinator thought out loud. Reaching for the phone, he punched in Sakai's number.

* * *

Slowly reclaiming his self-control in the crumpled sheets within his white-knuckled fists, Mitsui gulped at the sight of Reiko's slightly parted lips and flushed skin, the reaction of their contact pushing them to the point of near combustion. The way she looked back at him didn't help his restraint, the depths of her blue eyes wide and astonished and full of curiosity. He held his hovering position over her, unmoving even as he regained a calmer rate of breathing, his captive within the confines of his arms tilting her head in query. 

"Mitsui-san…?"

Pause.

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

_So beautiful…_

"Yes… I mean… no…"

Reiko searched his face for an explanation.

"I… I nearly lost control… I'm sorry," he whispered, allowing his forehead to touch hers. "Just being near you… I go crazy," he paused, his struggle to find words clearly apparent to her, "… And with you in my arms, I risk becoming a madman…"

She lowered her gaze to the familiar scar by his chin, unsure on how to reply. She felt responsible somehow, recalling that in the past, she was occasionally a difficult child who asked for things to be done which she could have done herself, like walking up the stairs to bed, or getting an electrode. If he was unable to control himself, it was because she allowed herself to be coddled and fussed over, like a spoiled child. Reiko inwardly reproached herself to grow up. She whispered. "I apolo—"

"Don't," he hissed, startling Reiko with his retort. He lifted his head and allowed himself to look at her with lust-filled eyes, his demeanor causing her heart to skip a beat. "Don't apologize for something you didn't do." Mitsui read the confusion in her blue depths, all the more convincing him to extract himself away from her, a pained expression crossing his face.

Sigh.

_Because she is too pure._

Blink.

And she was so innocent.

"Don't apologize for what I have the responsibility of controlling."

She tried to move unsuccessfully, his torso pinning her resistance down.

"I will let you go in a moment… but first… I need you to understand what you do to me." / _Because I can't hold it in anymore…_ /

She gave an understanding nod, noting the intensity of his gaze.

"You thought I was running a fever… I'm not."

Fingertips to jawline.

"Just this one touch, and I am on fire."

Pause.

"And the more I touch, the more I want to kiss…"

Lips to neck.

"… The more I burn…"

Tongue to skin.

Gasp.

"… The more I want to taste every inch of you…"

Parted lips.

Feral confession.

"And all my senses are aroused to the point of agony…"

Reiko's eyes grew wide as saucers when she felt him grind against her, his face nuzzling her neck as if to hide himself in shame, his confession physically evident against her thigh.

"… And I'm afraid of being so close to you, because I fear that I will finally lose all control… and… I can't…"

She heard him choke on his words, making her tilt her head towards his.

"I can't let you take the pain I will inflict on you..."

His embrace tightened around her as he nuzzled impossibly closer. "I don't want to hurt you," he rasped, almost sounding like he wanted to be forgiven.

Despite her shock, she understood, taking in every word that was uttered before wrapping her arms around him. It was Mitsui's turn to be surprised.

* * *

"I see… yes, I understand." 

_Click._

Yoshikawa leaned against the control panel counter, his eyes staring at the one blinking red dot in deep thought. His two colleagues waited for him to say something, because frankly, the suspense was killing both of them. He must've found something out.

"Um… Yoshikawa-san?"

A shake of the head.

"I didn't think that it would be so soon…" The lab coordinator's colleagues were baffled at his musings as they watched him grab a few sheets of paper from a manila folder at the end of the counter and fish for a pen in his coat pockets. Finding none, he asked the closest colleague to lend him his.

"Call everybody up and get them over here," he said as he drew a series of circles and squares, a river of ideas coursing through his mind. "Pull up the blueprint for the immersion chamber at the Nakamichi estate." Pausing to look at his handiwork, he let his brows rise in delayed surprise. "It looks like we won't be needing that bell for the cat after all."


	27. Chapter 27

The drive had been incredibly quiet; the only sounds registering in her ears were those of the quiet whir of the engine and the smooth shifting of the gears. Ayumi was grateful for this silence. She found solace in it, and she knew that Jackson was extending more than just physical aid in thwarting her blind date from hell. As they turned the corner, she reflexively held herself as she looked outside her window, finding the warmth of the guard's jacket which he had draped over her shoulders a numbing consolation from the cold harrowing thoughts that plagued her.

In the driver's seat, Jackson gripped the steering wheel as they waited for the light to turn green, his eyes scanning ahead for a well-lit place where he could stop the car, get the medicine kit out of the trunk and tend to whatever he could of Ayumi's injuries. He didn't allow himself the time to look her over before getting into the car, all he could think of was getting her out of the club as fast and as far away as possible, an idea to which he thought she would agree whole-heartedly. Spotting a lone bench under a bright street lamp, he parked the car in front of it, all the while Ayumi wondering what was going on.

Unbuckling his safety belt, Jackson calmly spoke. "I'm going to get the medicine kit from the trunk, Ayumi-san."

"It's really not—"

She barely had time to utter protest, he had already gotten out of the car and to the rear of the vehicle.

"… Necessary…" she voiced dejectedly. Letting out a sigh, she eyed the digital clock on the stereo face. Forty-five after midnight. Ayumi cringed. Her parents may get the wrong idea and think that she liked the scumbag they set her up with, being out so late. She dug into her purse for her cell and dialed home.

"Hello, Mom? Listen, I ran into Nanami-chan at the restaurant, and since it would be late by the time I get home from here, I decided to just stay at her place tonight."

Pause.

"No, Mom, I don't like him… not in the least bit. He was so… _unpleasant…_"

She inwardly laughed. That was the nicest thing she could say about her date. Her door opened and Jackson stood in the light with the kit in one hand. Ayumi didn't really want him to hear the conversation.

"Please don't, Mom… I _really_ don't want anymore blind dates…"

Embarrassed at his abrupt intrusion, the guard stepped back and looked away, trying to listen instead to the wailing of an ambulance siren that just passed the nearby intersection.

"… I just wanted to check-in with you and Dad, I'm at Nanami-chan's, okay? So please don't worry about me, I'll see you two tomorrow, okay? All right… Love you, too, Mom. Goodnight."

_Click_.

Jackson waited for her to acknowledge him. "I'm sorry, Jackson-san. I didn't want my parents to worry," she petered out.

"I understand." He stepped forward and opened the car door all the way. "Let me take a look at your wrist."

Downplay.

"I-it's really not that bad."

Skepticism.

"It won't hurt for me to look at it—"

"But really, I'm fine."

She held the wrist that still had his handkerchief around it to her chest so protectively that he couldn't believe her.

"Please, Ayumi-san, just a look—"

"It's okay, really!" she chirped with false gusto, even trying to smile. Jackson saw through it, pausing to look into her wavering eyes that couldn't withstand the weight of his stare.

"Please, Ayumi-san?"

Letting out a nervous sigh, she gave the slightest of nods and remained as still as she could, her eyes now trained on the borrowed cloth that served as a rudimentary brace for her wrist. As he crouched down in front of her, she refused to let him know how painful it was for her when he manipulated through the little knot she had tied, and she bit her lip at his frowning reaction as he held her wrist against the light, gently turning her forearm to inspect for more bruising. Was that anger she could see on his brow that radiated heat through his fingertips against her skin? She could only guess. Ayumi just wanted Jackson to finish as quickly as possible before he learns just how badly her evening turned out to be.

He could tell she was guarding, the habit of biting her lip a telltale sign of the truth. "Ayumi-san," he said, looking past her shoulder, "what's that?" Turning her head, she was completely unprepared for the move Jackson made with her wrist, a painful gasp escaping her throat as she returned her gaze at her injury. Gritting his teeth at the confirmation of ligamentous injury, he held his silence as he opened the medicine kit and took a small roll of bandage out. As he wrapped the small wrist that looked as if he could snap it like a twig, he furtively glanced up at her.

Her lower lip was back in the bit position.

"I'm sorry I tricked you like that. I had to know how bad the injury is."

As he finished placing the metal fasteners on the wrap, a splash of liquid landed on the back of his hand, forcing him to lift his gaze back at her.

Tears.

"I'm really sorry… I didn't mean for it to hurt so much."  
Ayumi's lips bent into an unexpected smile, her head bent down over her wrist. "No, no, I… I don't even know why my eyes are leaking…"

The guard reached his thick fingertips to her face, brushing the warm fluid across her cheek framed by a thick lock of hair. Halfway through the gesture, her face winced.

Quickly retracting his touch, Jackson's eyes widened in indignation as he gathered the lock of hair covering her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, not caring for his forwardness if it meant discovering why she was so reluctant to let him inspect her. Allowing him to tilt her head to expose her left cheek to the light, Ayumi inwardly gave up. There was no use in hiding now, her savior who was growing angrier by the second was too observant to miss painful details. Barely brushing his thumb across her cheek, Jackson could feel the swollen margins of her cheek, her left eye cringing shut as he gingerly palpated the center where the blow had been most severe. Beside himself, he let her go and quickly stood, Ayumi finding it hard to lift her gaze to meet his eyes against the lamp light.

"Where else, Ayumi-san?" his gruff voice said.

Jackson didn't wait for her to blink her tears away, raising his voice a few decibels louder, disregarding the hurt and confusion in her eyes. "Where else did he hurt you?"

"N-nowhere el—"

"Damn it! I can't do anything if you don't tell me!" he spat out, crouching down once more and gripping her shoulders as if to shake the truth from her.

"He slapped my face and twisted my wrist when I tried to get away, and then you came," she said loudly, her voice quivering with subdued sobs.

Jackson became livid. "Why didn't you tell me before? What else are you hiding from me?"

"My foolishness!" she cried, retracting her bandaged wrist against her chest, wanting to curl into a ball and hold herself in and from the sting of the cold, from Jackson's dissecting stare and from the pain of the assault that _she _herself allowed to happen because she assumed her date would be somewhat of a respectable man. How bitterly wrong she was. She expected more reprimand from the guard, steeling herself for his words to mince into her. Much to her surprise, she was given the luxury of her first impulse, the guard pulled her into his hold. It was just as well; she no longer had the strength to hold herself up.

"I'm sorry for being rough… my line of work doesn't exactly require me to be easy on people… it's kind of difficult for me to be soft…"

Despite her tears, she let out a tiny chortle. She didn't know about the difficult part, but it was enough for her to know that he _could_ be soft. _Imagine that_, she thought as a few more tears fell from her eyes. He wasn't much of a fairy, not in the least bit; he toted a gun instead of a wand, and he certainly looked better in a suit than a godmother's dress. Apart from the almond extract accident, he'd done nothing but help her, and that evening's act of valor earned him a medal of honor by her book; any minor act of roughness was certainly forgivable with his consistent track record. Sure, she got slapped, maybe tossed around a little. But despite it all, she was lucky that those were all that happened. She let herself sag in relief at the thought. It was over.

"Ayumi-san," he quietly addressed, his voice a low rumble to her ear against his chest. "Are you sure… he didn't do anything more to you?"

Pausing to blink, she replied. "No…" She felt his hold on her tense slightly as she pushed away to look at him. "He did… something much worse than a slap to the cheek."

Jackson steeled himself for the worst, watching with bated breath as she dropped her gaze to the buttons of his collared shirt.

"He fed me _really_ bad food."

* * *

Inside the conference room, all airs of professionalism and scientific formality were flung aside with the dress shoes against the wall and white coats onto the backs of leather chairs. With such a complicated deadline and very little sleep, Yoshikawa and his colleagues voiced their collective thanks for the late night delivery of gourmet coffee and éclairs to the lab, Yoshi personally delivering the much-needed caffeine and sugar rush. How could the lab run out of coffee? The lab coordinator sighed inwardly as he took a sip of his espresso. He ought to pay more attention to the purchase orders on his desk. For now, there were matters more pressing. At least the coffee was good. The youngest white coat of the engineering triad got up from his seat, clearing his raspy throat for the others' attention.

"Okay… so… I took the liberty of taking the layout design from Honda-san over here, who's just a nod away from passing out, and because I am the most awake among the three of us, I will go ahead and give you the specs and wiring."

A mumble of thanks came from the two other engineers who sank into the leather chairs like jellyfish. Those who were comfortably lounged on the floor sat up to look at the flat panel wall in front of them, a three-dimensional hologram of the immersion chamber coming into view.

Laser pointer.

"We've always run the chamber with a large control panel to modulate the current, for in the past, we always had to adjust it. It's not so much a problem now. Because we can't really hang around to wait for the… _event_ to happen, we've made it so it can be prepped for use at a set current within thirty seconds."

Raised brows.

"The old wiring made it bulky and too complicated to hook up to the control panel, but that served us the purpose of being able to modify the gradient as needed. However, since we pretty much have a consistent current-to-substrate mix, all that's needed is to pre-wire the chamber to the voltage of choice. The voltage can be set by remote control, or over-ridden manually through a small control panel we've designed into the wall of the chamber."

Oohs and aahs.

"Now, to achieve quicker solvation of the substrate mix, we've added these little jets to mix it all in, sort of like a jacuzzi."

Chuckles.

"Fill time for the chamber falls within twenty-five seconds of the total thirty it takes for immediate usage, and the remaining five will be for the charge to activate the substrate to optimization."

Impressed.

"These are all the modifications Honda-san and Nishimoto-san have made."

A round of applause.

Weary gratitude.

"And these are the modifications I made to the interior of the chamber."

3-D zoom.

"I went with porcelain tops for these plastered seats because marble gives off radiation, even if it is extremely slight. I figured the most inert is the way to go."

Switch panel.

"This side of the chamber has a flat panel screen that's substrate and waterproof, it controls every kind of media she'd like to see or hear..."

_Beep_.

"From the local news…"

_Beep._

"To music…"

_Beep._

"To the internet. The same voice-activated operating system in the foyer of the main house will be installed, so no mouse needed to browse or send email. The computer is linked to the bodyguards' cell phones should any kind of emergency arise, and a data link is established with the main computers of this lab the moment the chamber is activated to be filled."

Ovation.

With a grin, Yoshikawa stood from his seat, walked over to the sheepish engineer and gave him a high-five. He, like everybody else in the conference room, was greatly impressed. Each person on his team not only possessed intellectual expertise in their field, they also channeled awesome ingenuity into their craft which only propelled their research by leaps and bounds. Pleased at the modifications presented, the lab coordinator took his cup of espresso and raised it to the presenters.

"To a job so remarkably done!"

Collective toasts soon followed, and despite the fatigue that settled like a cloud over the engineering team, smiles of satisfaction spread across their faces as their colleagues gave them congratulatory slaps on their backs. While they all celebrated over the new plans for the immersion chamber, Yoshikawa walked over to his courier bag and took out a thick stack of bound papers, placing them quietly on the conference table. He was going to let his team know that there was _so_ much more work to be done, more planning for the future… but not right now. He settled contentedly into his chair, musing. _Let them be happy for a few minutes more… _

* * *

"Please tell me… is there something I can do… to ease this burden from you?"

Push-off.

"My life has been nothing but learning…"

Questioning brown.

"… It is what I do best."

The fire within Mitsui was somewhat tamed, her chaste kiss a sweet surprise to his lips, a reaction he didn't think would happen. When she withdrew, he opened his eyes to find her gazing intently at him, oceans of blue intent on engulfing his soul as she placed her palm over his heart which threatened to leap into her hand at any second.

Exploratory.

"Your lips… taste of restraint, Mitsui-san."

Her smile took away every word he wanted to utter at that moment, helpless as he watched her look at her hand against his chest.

"I think I understand now… why you are feverish. It's because of this," she said, moving her thumb across the fabric of his shirt. "And the tingling in my fingers…" she trailed off, taking his hand and entrapping it between her cheek and palm. "_This_ is what causes it…" He nearly let out a growl as she guided his hand on a languorous descent down her throat, clenching his jaw as he watched her eyes slide shut, the expression on her face a mixture of curiosity verging on pleasure, as if she had never felt the touch of another.

_Not in **this** way…_

The pulsing heat against his palm made his own blood hum with feral need. Mitsui was at his limits, and he was about to let all restraint go when she suddenly opened her eyes.

"Mitsui-san…?"

Hoarse plea.

"Please, Reiko… I am only human..."

"I would like to know… I _want_ to learn… how you make me feel as if… as if I have electricity running through me… will you teach me?"

Choked groan.

"…Will you show me?"

He could've sworn he was being seduced, but he knew that was not her intention. She was all innocence, and he was the fire that would consume her. Did she know what she was asking? The cerulean glow in her eyes never lied. When was she going to learn that he could never deny her anything? His voice cracked, almost as if in pain. "I don't want you to regret anything… I love you so much that I… that I want this to be perfect for you… I want to do this right…"

She let go of his hand which remained at the crook of her neck, eyeing the scar by his chin. "Please tell me how I can help you make this right."

He took a deep breath as he held her gaze.

"Will… will you stay with me… and be mine for the rest of my life?"

Blink.

"And never leave me lonely?"

He knew that he was exposing his insecurities, and it took a lot of another kind of control to repress the memories of abandonment. He had experienced what hell was like, and he never ever wanted to go through it again. He had a ring on his finger, so did she; they meant nothing without the commitment behind them. He was willing to show her just how weak he was without her, if it meant having the privilege of going home to her everyday.

"Then… will you marry me?"

A smile.

"A lifetime with you for your tuition?"

Mitsui suddenly was gripped with the similar fear of rejection weeks ago, when he found the ring in his vest pocket, anxiousness sweeping over him as she continued to smile, the silence she held burrowing through him like a slow bullet as she plumbed the depths of his eyes. He was not above begging.

"Please?..."

She answered him with a calming stroke against the scar she wished she could heal. She whispered. "When would you like to get married?"

Reiko welcomed his response, the way he clung to her was so desperate, the shooting guard embracing her just enough to let her breathe. He would hold himself off, needed to control himself, all for moral preservation. // _Because she deserves that and much, much more than I can give… _//

In the silent seconds that followed, she understood the happiness that she only read of in books, its meaning truly indescribable and only comprehensible once experienced. When he thought his breathing had finally recovered, Mitsui felt soft lips brush against the shell of his ear as she stirred in his embrace.

A whisper.

"Yes… I love you, Mitsui-san… my answer is yes."

He wordlessly hoped that she would forgive him for showing weakness, the way his eyes betrayed comfort and relief in the guise of hot, silent tears.

* * *

After spending three hours preparing the menu for his event in two weeks, Yoshi leaned back in his seat contently as he read over the list once more. With a new pastry chef in the wings, the dessert portion of dinner shouldn't be a problem, and with a few phone calls to his vendors, the job should go smoothly. It also helps when one's vendors are also close personal friends. Releasing a sigh, he put his pencil down with a grin. Now that _that_ was finished, he got up to go to the kitchen and help with the prep for the dinner rush when the phone at the reservation desk rang. He hoped it was Jackson, he needed to know if all went smoothly with the fairy godfather business.

"Hello, this is Yoshi of—… yes, hello, dear…"

A few more moments and Jackson walked through the French doors of the restaurant, nodding at the old proprietor as he waited for him to finish his call in the foyer. Turning his head at the gasp Yoshi made, Jackson pretended not to be interested in his conversation.

"I… I… what can I say, I'm speechless!... Yes, that would be fine! I'll make the calls, consider it done!… Yes… Do they know?... Oh… Well then, you know best, I'll leave that to you! I will talk to you again very soon, dear. Call me if you need anything, all right?... I'll see you soon, goodbye!"

Jackson quirked up a brow. "Can I bother to guess that that was Nakamichi-dono?"

"Indeed." Mischief sparkled in the old proprietor's eyes, a glimmer that ominously warned the guard of scheming. "So, how'd things go?"

Jackson pursed his lips in thought before replying. "Well, I got her out of her date, if that's what you mean." He didn't want to include the unpleasant details of sleazy dates and battered pastry chefs unless he asked for them.

"Excellent! Was she happy?" he asked him expectantly, Yoshi motioning for Jackson to follow him to the bar for a drink. The guard waited for the proprietor to fill his cup with hot barley tea before replying.

"She was quite… _relieved_."

The smile on Yoshi grew. "I knew you were the right man for the job."

Jackson looked down at this cup before taking a sip. _Indeed…_ As the hot liquid swirled down his throat, he recalled what happened after Ayumi's collapse, the funny face she made at his incredulous stare after being told of her vexing jaunts into culinary pseudo-delights. It was hard not to crack a grin, he was glad she was a resilient woman who could lighten up even the dourest of moods. It took him five stoplights later to realize that the mood she was trying to cool was his.

Selfless.

Would she rather brush off the assault and her injury to placate him? When they got to her niece's apartment and found out she wasn't home, she would've resorted staying in a hotel room just to prevent Nanami from walking away from a party and coming to open her front door for her. He refused to grant her request of being driven to a nearby hotel, when she was probably safer in Nanami's apartment and less vulnerable to other maniacs who might just want to take her out for another tasteless dinner. Rather than risking any of those possibilities, he did what any bodyguard would have done to protect his charge. He picked the door lock with a master key, pushed the door open with a little force and ushered a very shocked Ayumi into the living room, as if breaking and entering homes was as easy a skill as breathing. Noting how flimsy the deadbolt was on the door, he instructed Ayumi to apologize to her niece for him for breaking into her apartment, and that he would install a better lock system for her apartment the next day, a task which he completed before meeting with Yoshi at the restaurant. If she was to be rescued and protected, he was going to do the job properly. She was the old man's cherished pastry chef after all.

"Oh, I should let Ayumi-san know that I'll _really_ need her in the next two weeks," said Yoshi, cleaning the wine glasses with a small hand towel. "Things got a lot more complicated in the last few minutes."

Jackson took a good look at the old man behind the bar, the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth always heralded some secret scheme that signaled for him to be mentally on his toes. "Oh? And why is that?"

A happy sigh escaped the proprietor's throat, his smile deepening. "Well, you know how it is… nixing menus that took hours planning for something much grander, making arrangements, those sorts of 'raising-the-bar' things."

"Must be for a special customer," Jackson mused before taking another sip of his tea, waiting to see if his companion would take the bait.

Replacing the wine glasses on the rack, Yoshi kept on smiling as he turned to meet the large guard's gaze. A nod was all he gave him.

Jackson returned the grin. The old man knew how to play this game.

* * *

Brushing her hair with mechanical repetition, Ayako stared blankly at the picture frame on her desk, the happy and possessive hold of Miyagi around her shoulders proudly displayed in the photograph. Who would have thought that she'd end up marrying the same guy she considered a hopeless jock in high school? The notion made her smile absently. Time had changed Miyagi into a more responsible man, someone who kept his sense of justice and knew when to give, to compromise and to take. Each time she had her doubts, he did something incredibly simple or even foolish to prove himself worth of respect and love. She stopped brushing her hair and sighed.

Miyagi had changed into a beautiful person.

_And I can't help but love this man…_

With the wedding in two weeks, Ayako's nerves were frazzled with gown fittings, invitations, flower and seating arrangements, dinner menus… She closed her eyes and groaned. Neither her mother nor Mrs. Miyagi was helping to calm her down, their fussing and persistent pursuit of wedding perfection drained her mentally. And if the photographer wouldn't mess up so much with the pictures, she wouldn't have been so tired from going back and forth to the studio and back to work where she had a mountain of things to do edit and transcribe. It was no surprise that no one bothered her much at the TV station, lest they incur the fire-breathing wrath of a bridezilla. She was thankful for quiet moments like these.

Until her cell phone rang.

Sigh.

"Hello?"

Recognition.

"Oh hi! I haven't heard from you in a while!"

Contrition.

Explanation.

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear to that. I guess my plan on taking you on a guilt trip got turned on me."

Chuckles.

"Saturday night? Let's see… other than going for a final fitting before dinner, I'm free then. What's up?"  
Proposition.

"That sounds like a great idea! Do the other girls know?"

Favor.

"Sure, I'll let the others know. Hold on, let me get a pen to write your address down—"

Unnecessary.

"O-okay, I guess picking me up is easier… so Saturday night then?"

Confirmation.

"At seven, come hungry, got it. Wow, I'm kinda excited about this, I miss being with my girls _so much_! It'll be a great break from all this wedding planning."

Laughter.

"Don't worry, I think Ryota would like the idea of me being with so many beautiful ladies! As long as they're not men, he's a happy!"

Gratitude.

"No, thank you! I'll call the girls right away. See you on Saturday!"

_End transmission_.

* * *

Taking a long emptying swig of an energy drink purchased from a vending machine, Miller let out a sigh before crushing and tossing the can into a nearby trash bin. Cradling his helmet against his side, he ran his glove-free hand through his hair. If that day wasn't the fullest of surprises, he didn't know what was. Not since he was in college did he get news handed down to him, one shock after the other, but those were different. This was of the pleasant kind.

Unzipping his motorcycle suit to mid-abdomen, he let the heat from his skin cool off in the evening wind, the cold breeze a calming contrast from the adrenaline-charged ride he took to get up to the peak of the hill where his motorcycle was now parked. He smirked. _What a way to end this crazy day_…

He wasn't prepared to have a meeting with Mitsui with the rest of the guards in the living room so early in the morning, at least not at seven in the morning. So when he asked for consent for Reiko's hand in marriage, he was nothing short of speechless with only a toothy grin to convey his assent. All the guards witnessed how sincere and serious Mitsui was, not to mention nervous, with the way he was holding his breath, and the rigid back that bent ever so politely low towards them. Miller's grinning nod gave the shooting guard some sort of relief, his approval obviously taking some weight off his back. He expected Jackson to be less than indulgent even though his permission would be unquestionably granted, but Fuji… Fuji had a field day with Mitsui.

"And what makes you think you're worthy of her, Mitsui-san? Do you know what hell we went through, what hell _she_ went through just for you?" he spat out as he leaned back into the sofa, arms crossed as if to reject any kind of reason Mitsui would give. The other guards gaped at their colleague while Mitsui stood before him, absolutely mortified and looking as though he'd turned liquid and would splatter to the floor at any second.

"Well?" he prodded impatiently.

"I realize that she had to endure a lot in the past—"

"What, and just knowing _that_ qualifies you to be with her?"

Mitsui was just poleaxed. "I-I just want to make her happy—"

Jackson interjected sternly. "Fuji, that's enough—"

It was then that the young guard broke into laughter. "Mitsui, I got you _so_ good! You should've seen that horrified look on your face!" Fuji folded in laughter, hugging himself as he sank into the couch. "I'm sure the third camera caught that look… wait till I show Nakamichi-dono!"

They ended up chasing each other around the servants' house, and above the threats and jeers that came from the top of their lungs, Miller and the rest of the guards knew that Fuji was never going to let Mitsui live this down.

_Where is that dolt?_ Miller scanned around him, trying to listen for the revving of a motorcycle engine. He and Fuji had agreed to meet up here from the house, one of the few chances they had to play with the toys that Reiko gave them. Sighing, he fished for more change from his pocket and looked at the vending machine once more. He'd better take advantage of quiet evenings like these; the next few days were going to be busy again. Miller grinned. "Not that I really mind," he muttered to himself.

Sure enough, his colleague made it to the rendezvous point, speeding towards the vending machine then abruptly stopping, fast enough that motorcycle teetered on the front wheel from the halted momentum. Miller shook his head, laughing. "You're such a show-off."

Shoving off his helmet, Fuji bared his teeth with the most rakish grin. "Hey, I learned from the best!" Catching the drink Miller vaulted at him, he was about to remove one of his gloves when both guards turned their heads at the unexpected sound of a purring engine.

Another motorcycle.

"Friends of yours, Miller?"

Eyeing the driver and passenger of the vehicle, Miller quirked a brow at the sky blue and racing orange suits the riders donned, their attention caught by the inquisitive looks the young guards threw. They stopped a few parking spaces away from them, and it seemed that the two were in some sort of disagreement, for neither of them seemed to want to dismount, their helmets shaking at some unheard conversation.

Miller leaned towards Fuji. "Never seen suits _that_ bright before." His colleague took a swig of his drink, and before Fuji could open his mouth to say something, they heard footsteps against the cobblestone path to the vending machines. Both held their tongues as they watched the rider in the orange suit unglove a hand, dig for change in one of the suit's pockets, and hurriedly deposited them into the machine. Miller knew exactly what Fuji was thinking: why did the rider still have the helmet on? Maybe he just wanted to buy one drink, leave and drink it someplace else? It made no sense to Miller, for any seasoned rider knew not to carry more than what was needed while riding.

Two cans.

Fuji turned to his best friend and grinned. "I bet you they're gay!" he managed to say below hearing range.

Miller frowned at him. "Stop betting your money on stupid stuff."

"Aw, come on! I still need to win that money I lost when you won that stupid race!"

Laughter.

"Forget it, man. That money's staying in my pocket!"

As the two men bickered, the orange suited rider flipped the visor up to glance at their direction, only to quickly shield wide eyes behind the visor. Collecting the drinks, hurried footsteps ran back to the waiting rider.

Reproach.

"Why did we even come here? We're gonna get busted for sure!"

"Sshh! Just drink real fast and don't look their way. I'm sure they'll leave us alone."

Paranoia.

_Pop!_

"… I'm too nervous to drink this now!"

Suppressed giggle.

"It's only tea, not beer! Come on, you don't even have to drink all of it. Weren't you the one who wanted a drink?"  
Sulking.

"Yeah, but now I'm really creeped out, because if those guys find out who we are—"

Waved off.

"They won't. Besides, they don't even know who we are!"

Nervous pause.

"Yes, they _do_."

Disbelief.

"What?"

Taking off the matching blue helmet, swan-like neck craned and eyes strained to discern the identity of the preoccupied men who had the other rider on edge.

Gasp.

Turning her head quickly to her friend, she blinked at the unbelievable odds that out of all the people they could possibly run into, it had to be _them,_ here of all places, and in their riding suits of all garments!

Hiss.

"_Why_ didn't you tell me sooner?!"

"Wha-, hey, I tried telling you earlier, but you insisted that I go get the drinks!"

"How am I supposed to see their faces under that dim lamplight?" The helmet was replaced back on her head.

Muffled voice.

"No wonder you didn't take your helmet off… Take your last sip, we have to go."

Mournful.

"You mean, my first _and _last sip."

Miller paused his little squabble with Fuji when he saw the orange-clad rider's helmet come off, eyes widening at the sight of luminescent locks of hair tumbling down the rider's shoulders. Miller sensed that something was amiss when he noticed the cryptic posture the two riders held, the orange suit never turning to reveal even a profile for him to see. Fuji noticed something entirely different in the form of two shiny coins that reflected dully under the lamplight on the cobblestone pavement.

"Hey, he dropped his change."

By the time the orange rider had secured the helmet, Fuji was already by their motorcycle, Miller noting the near tense reaction of the driver. Fuji was too stealthy for his own good.

"Hey man, you dropped your change back there."

The second that was spent looking at him in shock felt like an eternity, praying that the visor was dim enough to conceal stunned eyes. "K-keep it," was the shaky reply. A craning neck at the other rider made it seem like the driver was strung tight as a bow. "Hurry up and get on!"

Fuji may not have the hawk-like powers of observation that Miller possessed, but his ears never forgot a sound made by any object or person. Provided, of course, that the guard was well-rested and awake. Peering into the visor of the driver, he squinted. "Hey, do I know you?"

Answered only by eyes large as headlights, the driver started and revved the engine once the passenger was seated. Fuji wanted an answer. "Hey, wait a minute," he said, grabbing the driver's wrist, to which the reaction was a startling retraction, almost as if his touch burned, the eyes that looked at him holding inexplicable anxiety. The back tire burned a rubbery streak as they turned the vehicle and sped off, prompting Fuji to step back and run to his motorcycle. Miller was at a loss for words.

"Nope, definitely not gay," he said loudly as he put on his gloves and grabbed for his helmet.

"What are you talking about?" his colleague demanded as he mimicked Fuji's actions.

Starting his engine, Fuji balanced the motorcycle off its stand. "I'm willing to bet," his muffled voice said, "that those two know us more than they want us to recognize who they are."

Groaning, Miller keyed his engine to life. "I suppose I'll let myself get roped in. _Again._ Tell me why we're going to tail them."

"Because, even when muffled, I could never mistake Sayuri's voice."

Miller was taken aback, knowing very well that whenever her name was involved, Fuji's concentration never wavered to hone in on her. Gritting his teeth, he followed Fuji's motorcycle out the parking lot, eventually taking the lead and speeding through the straightaways, deftly hugging the turns in an effort to gain on those who gave chase. As he pulled away from Fuji, he grinned at the thought of an almost cosmic law regarding Sayuri: wherever mischief and Sayuri were, the person practically joined to her at the hip would also be there.

_Miki._

If there was one thing that Miller disliked, it was being left in the dark without answers or explanations, and if Miki really was Sayuri's orange clad passenger, he wanted to know why they hid their identities and fled from them like criminals. As he flew through another turn, he crouched like a tiger that was ready to pounce through the clearing of traffic, their prey's suits clearly visible at the approaching intersection. A wicked smile spread hidden behind his helmet, his eyes alight with determination.

Miller would have his own field day after all.

* * *

Letting their wives migrate into the living room, the pair of coaches cleared the dining table of used dishes and cutlery, the ladies giggling and teasing them with winks and flying kisses. Miwa rolled his eyes before giving his wife a secret grin, while Sato played along and blew kiss right back. Once a week, the couples would have dinner together, alternating between their houses, and it was decided early on that the men cleaned up after the women. Neither coach could object.

"So which dirty deed do you want?" Miwa asked, bringing the stack of dirty plates to the counter.

"How about I wash, you rinse and dry?"

Agreement.

Sighing as he poured liquid soap onto a sponge, Sato smirked. "So guess who called me the other day?"

Miwa grinned before replying. "The stork who mistakenly brought tidings of a new baby to my doorstep instead of yours?"

Guffaw.

"Aw, come on! You're beginning to sound like you don't want that little one growing in the oven right now."

Rinse.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I think it's great! I just wish I could predict what kind of food she's going to be craving at two in the morning…"

Sato could only laugh.

"Anyway, I give up. Who called you?"

The volleyball coach carefully handed him the steak knives. "The most celebrated shooting guard of your coaching career."

Miwa was pleasantly surprised. "Really? What's the occasion?"

"He said he and the boys were trying to get some sort of get-together… I'm surprised you didn't get the same phone call."

Shrug.

"I probably did, I just haven't checked the answering machine since I'm too busy trying to catch up on the sleep I lose every time I do one of my late-night trips to the grocery store."

"Well, make sure you check, 'cause I don't want to be the only old goat going."

"Old? Sato, we're _far_ from old. You're what, thirty-five?"

Laugh.

"I guess not too old to make babies!"

Sato triumphed in seeing his friend flustered to the roots of his hair as he rinsed the next plate he was handed.

"Well, whatever… anyway, when's it supposed to be?"

"This coming weekend."

A bout of silence passed between them until the last of the dishes were rinsed and put up. Leaning against the counter, Miwa looked outside the window. "Man, I can't believe years have passed since Mitsui-kun played for me…"

"You're telling me," Sato answered, tossing his buddy a hand towel. "Talent as rare as comets will never again grace my team such as his girlfriend had."

"Theatrics don't suit you, Sato," the basketball coach laughed. "But you're definitely right about Reiko-chan… hey, whatever happened to her?"  
"I don't know… I lost touch with them awhile back."

"Well, I'm sure we'll get caught up this weekend."

"So you're going?"  
"Why not? By the time I get back, my wife will want more hot sauce to go with the cheesecake I have to buy at one in the morning."

Sato almost pitied his friend. "Wait, I thought you said _two_ in the morning."

Resigned sigh.

"You heard right. One in the morning is for appetizers. Two in the morning is the main course."

Shaking head.

"I'd hate to ask what's for dessert."

Miwa pushed off the counter and headed to the living room, Sato trailing behind him. Glancing at his wife, Sato caught the wink she shot him. He was about to say something funny when he turned his head to Miwa, the basketball coach's gaze resting lovingly on his wife, her abdomen barely showing signs of her pregnancy. A pat to his shoulder jolted him from his stare.

A mumble.

"Man, keep that up and she'll be pregnant every year."

Miwa was embarrassed yet again. Score one more for Sato.

* * *

"Hey, guess what?"

Soft caress.

"What?"

"I got invited to a party this weekend."

Hidden disappointment.

"Oh. Who invited you?"

"Ayako-senpai."

Pause.

She could tell from the moment she had said the word 'party' that he was a bit saddened by the possibility that she would choose the party over the plans they made for that weekend several weeks ago. She sighed and ran her fingers over his buzz-cut hair.

"Have a little faith in me, silly. Of course I am not going to go."

She smiled faintly at the crinkling of the corners of his eyes as he grinned in relief, holding her even closer against his chest. She understood his possessiveness well, and it never fully manifested itself until he held her in his arms, away from the world, all to himself. It wasn't because he didn't trust her that he had this insecurity of being chosen over something else. She knew that he loved her so much that the gentle yet firm way he held her against him was his unspoken plea for comfort he sought in her time and again. Because of grueling basketball practices, schoolwork and upcoming tournaments, quiet moments between them like these were becoming fewer and farther in between. She heard him sigh once more and she lifted her head at him.

"I feel a little bad for monopolizing you away from your friends… I know you want to spend time with them, too."

This was true, too. The last time she had gotten together with her girlfriends, they were all dressed like goddesses and paraded before a sea of tuxedos. It was all so fun, the playful deception of the auction and the results of the party afterwards, especially the flustered face of her boyfriend whose face matched the flaming sheen of his hair. He never once left her side that evening, mumbling something about wolves and meat hooks. Even if they did see each other everyday, whether it be on the court or him walking her to classes, indulging him with kisses and hugs was a reward in itself that both of them longed for at the end of the day. That was, of course, if they could find the time.

"I got a few calls from the guys myself."

Tilt.

"And?"

Shrug.

"Some kind of get-together. An old school reunion, Miyagi said. I dunno."

"Don't you want to go? You haven't seen them in a while."

He bent his head to kiss her lips. When he relinquished them for air, she found his eyes locked intensely on hers. That was his reply.

She giggled.

"All Haruko and no friends makes Hanamichi an unsociable boy."

It was always cute whenever he pouted.

"How about just making an appearance? After all, practice on Saturday will be done by two. Then you should be done with your homework by six…"

He cringed at the 'homework' part. If his girlfriend was anything, she was a slave driver when it came to getting schoolwork done. She was the only reason he was passing school. Even doing _well_.

"… So if you just show up for an hour or two, every one will be happy to see you, and you'll have the rest of the evening and Sunday to do as you well please."

"Are you sure you don't mind me hanging out with the guys?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I'll go have fun with the girls until you call me." She watched him slip in a thoughtful gaze and reassured him with a kiss on his nose. "Remember, the team is off on Sunday." She nuzzled the crook of his neck like a cat getting comfortable on its master's lap, and whispered. "That's a _whole_ _day_…"

His eyes glazed. "Of you and me?"

She nodded contentedly against his shoulder, slipping slowly into drowsiness. "Of you and me…" Why did he have to feel so comfortable? She knew muscles were supposed to be hard, but whenever she found herself in this position, his musculature served as cushion that somehow yielded to her touch. "… And whatever Prince Hanamichi wishes to do," she added hazily.

He choked a groan from escaping his throat and closed his eyes, holding her a little tighter at the sinful thought of tasting the skin of her clavicles. He was hopeless; he was a young, healthy man with the whole world in his arms. Was it unnatural for him to hunger for her? But as sweet as she was, he only let himself get as far as she would let him, and she allowed him enough caresses to tide him over. He would do right by her, but he knew that until he could do that, she would always be a self-renewing feast of sumptuous delight and he a starving man restrained at the arms with only the scent of her skin and the kisses she would drop him like crumbs to remind him of what she truly was in his life.

He shifted as she drowsily released the arm entrapped between her and his chest to wrap around him, his hand absently reaching for the base of her spine and stroking it lightly, his mind deep in thought, of the woman in his arms, of the future he wanted, and of the things he would do to attain it.

* * *

"Okay, lift on the count of three. One, two—"

Grunts.

Yoshi could only thank God that Mitsui and the younger guards showed up when they did to help out with the catering crew. The old proprietor's mind spun with lists of things to do, and setbacks like being short on hands added more grey to his hair. He thanked the younger men before going back into the kitchen where culinary masterpieces waited to be created by his hand. Heading over to the spice rack, he took out several bottles and small glass bowls. Eyeballing measurements, he sighed as he mixed them with a spoon, a smile ghosting his lips. It had been ages since he got himself this fired up; with every one else involved giving the utmost of their craft, he knew he could give no less than his finest. Tickling the sense of taste was his forté after all.

Outside, three men were laughing.

"You've _got _to be kidding me!"

Two heads shook in laughter.

"So what'd you do?"  
"We caught up to them—"

"And had them cornered—"

"But they sure could move fast!"

"Yeah, they disappeared into this café—"

Mitsui was beyond surprised. "You guys make this sound like a James Bond movie!"

Chuckling grin.

"Why were they running to begin with?"

"No one knows about their two-wheeled guilty pleasure, not even their closest friends, and I guess it goes without saying to keep this on the down-low."

Wink.

"So guess what this Double O Seven does?"

"Aw, come on, Fuji, don't—"

"He finds Miki-san in that crowded café, trying to shed her suit off—"

Mitsui was still shocked. Miller was very red.

"But before she could do that, he picks her up and throws her over his shoulder—"

"Fuji!"

"Not even caring how she's screaming her protests—"

"Oh God…" Miller swiped a hand over his face.

"What, now you're suddenly embarrassed that you caged her between you and the bike and kissed her senseless?"

Mitsui's jaw slackened in awe. Miller was often the more reserved of the younger guards, and to hear him carry Miki around like a caveman was so totally unexpected.

"Damn it, Fuji, why are you always embarrassing me?! It's not like you didn't catch up to Sayuri-san either!"

Parry.

"Yeah, I did, but she knew escape was moot the moment I caught her hand. And besides, we were too busy watching your performance with Miki on the sidewalk."

Mitsui was now laughing. "And what did _you_ do with Sayuri-chan?"

Fuji grinned wickedly. "Since Mr. Smooth over here already took the Neanderthal route in getting the girl, I had to do something less dramatic."

"And what would that be?"  
Another grin.

"Kiss now, ask questions later."

The shooting guard let himself laugh out loud and hard, to the point of clutching his abdomen as he watched Miller swat his colleague with a table leg that he had somehow unscrewed off during Fuji's tirade, and Fuji somehow narrowly avoiding the makeshift weapon as he ran away from Miller. Mitsui wasn't worried; if Fuji was quick to fire incriminating words, he was just as quick on his feet when pursued.

* * *

Looking around them in confused awe, Akagi and Miyagi were careful to avoid the crews of delivery men busily carting fresh produce and meat products up and down the inclined walkway at the side entrance of the restaurant. It took them a while to get to the French doors of the front entrance, there were so many trucks that blocked the driveway and people milling about like busy ants. Finally arriving at the foyer, they wondered why the reservation desk was empty.

"Where'd everybody go?" Miyagi asked, looking through the vast emptiness of the dining room.

"Let's go check the kitchen."

Following Akagi, the point guard briefly allowed memories of his anniversary dinner with Ayako wash over him as they approached the piano bar. He grinned as he swung his gaze to the private banquet hall, remembering how happy Ayako was that he liked his surprise, and how he nearly cried at the fact that someone like him could have someone like her in his life. Miyagi shook his head faintly, trying not to turn into a pile of mush at the thought that he would be marrying the same woman next week.

"Oh God, please don't tell me you're thinking dirty thoughts again."

Miyagi shot the towering center a scandalized look. "What the hell makes you think that?"

"Man, every time you get that look on you and you're shaking your head, you're always thinking about her, and when you're thinking about her, it can't be pure," Akagi deadpanned.

The kitchen doors swung open the moment Miyagi's fist connected with Akagi's shoulder, the force enough to make the center wince and leave a nice bruise the next day. Ayumi's eyes grew wide at the scene, and she was ready to break them up.

"Boys, don't fight!" she said, stepping forward to force them apart. "It's too early to be brawling!"

Akagi did her the favor of side-stepping away from his irritated teammate, but not before landing a quick swat upside Miyagi's head. "Don't worry, Ayumi-san, we're not brawling." He ignored the glare Miyagi shot him. "Anyway, I brought that thing you requested."

"Thank you so much, Akagi-kun! You've saved dessert! I didn't think Nanami-chan would send it express, you're wonderful!"

Akagi smiled. "I'll get it out of the car. Where do you want it?"

"Oh, just give Takumi-kun the keys, let them take that monstrosity out. Thank you so much for doing this for me, I really appreciate it!"

She motioned for them to follow her into the kitchen, the athletes eyeing their surroundings with interest. Finding Takumi, Akagi gave him the keys and waiter left the kitchen.

"What is that thing, anyway?"

She laughed as she took out two saucers and teacups from the cupboard above the prep area. "It's an industrial-sized chocolate grater."

"What?" they chorused.

Sliding two pieces of cake onto dessert plates, she smiled. "The one they had broke this morning, and we have about five more pounds of chocolate to grate." Grabbing two forks, she handed them to both athletes and placed their treats in front of them. "Please try this, I've been having second thoughts on how it tastes. I think my taste buds have become desensitized to the flavor, so let me know what you think."

As they quietly dug into the desserts, Ayumi took a thermos by the sink and poured them some dark brew that permeated the air around them with a foreign exotic aroma. "Here you go," she said with a grin.

Mumbling thanks, Miyagi took a sip of his drink and was instantly addicted. "Wow, what is this, Ayumi-san?"

She tapped her index finger against puckered lips. "Sshhh, that's a secret weapon."

Only nodding, Akagi was too busy taking sips from his cup to compliment.

"Well, the cake is definitely delicious. But this," the point guard tapped his teacup, "this is crazy good!"

She was pleased with his reaction. "Glad you like it, Miyagi-kun!"

"Can I have seconds?"

She paused in thought.

"… I'm sorry, Miyagi-kun. You're only supposed to have just one, otherwise…"

Miyagi gave her a weird look. "Otherwise what?"  
The kitchen doors swung and the proprietor strolled in, quickly seeing the thermos in front of Ayumi, mouth suddenly gaping when the old man trained his gaze back on her. "Ayumi-san, you didn't!"

Before she could answer either of them, the wait staff along with some deliverymen barged through the service doors, bringing with them the noise of an open market.

"Yoshi-san, the lamb meat you ordered is here! I need you to sign—"

"Watch the eggs, Akira, you'll break 'em all!"

"Hey, wait a minute, I ordered eighteen of these, where's the rest of—"

"Where do you want this, Ayumi-san?"

And on they went, filling the kitchen with bodies and deliveries and noise that the two athletes stood from their seats and edged their way to the walls, trying not to get in the way of people carting vegetables and ingredients to and fro. Amidst the noise, Akagi heard his girlfriend's aunt over the milling chatter around them.

"Thank you so much again, Akagi-kun, Miyagi-kun! I promise I'll give you more on your wedding day!"

With that, they finally made their way out of the kitchen, looking dismissed. Walking out of the front doors and through the parking lot, they found the keys Akagi had given earlier to one of the waiters in the ignition. Getting in, they stared wordlessly at the chaos of delivery trucks before them.

Finally, Miyagi broke the silence.

"… She never did answer my question."

Akagi only grunted.

Another moment passed, and Miyagi's eyes bulged out of their sockets and looked at the time on the dashboard.

"Ah shit, we're late, Gori!"

Quickly strapping themselves in their seats, Akagi drove off and headed into town, cursing softly after glancing at the clock.

Neither of them wanted to disappoint.

Years ago, the friends had quietly promised themselves, tens, perhaps a hundred times, that if ever Mitsui, or any one of them for that matter, needed any kind of favor, help or support, they would give it in a heartbeat. Miyagi once questioned Akagi when it was that all of them had gotten to be close friends, or how that phenomenon even came to be. For the center, it was really very simple. Being teammates had no requirement of being friends; no rulebook had it printed in black and white. But with time came familiarity, and familiarity an awareness of one's motivation. The time they spent practicing and playing with each other had evolved that awareness into respect and understanding, rising to a new level with each year that passed.

So when they had witnessed the devastation that was Mitsui a few years back, they stood quietly behind him during that memorial service, with the blackness of the shooting guard's suit and the vacuous stare in his eyes the only proof of his existence, and their imaginations could not fathom the despair he endured. At one point, they even wished for that which Mitsui warred with to be tangible, because beating and kicking someone senseless would have been a more perceptible, gratifying way to show that they had each others' backs. But depression was something one couldn't physically shake off with a grab of the shoulders; it was more complicated than that. And now that their teammate and friend was above and beyond that state, they would only propel him forward and fuel him further away from it. It was why Sakuragi was so intent on helping Mitsui to find Reiko again, and why Akagi, Miyagi, and even Rukawa dialed their fingers to the bone and ran around town to find him.

"Miyagi," the center addressed as he turned at the intersection. "Do you remember when Mitsui called you about this?"

His companion nodded absently. "Yeah, why?"

Pensive pause.

"Did he sound a little… weird to you?"

Miyagi blinked at the idea.

"… Come to think of it, he _did _sound a little insistent."

Reaching their destination, Akagi parked his car in front of the rendezvous point. After getting out of the car, they were greeted by a very relieved Mitsui, and not far behind him trailed Nakamichi Reiko's senior bodyguards, all three exchanging handshakes and greetings. Looking past them, Miyagi found himself staring at a very familiar sign outside the limestone establishment, which raised all the hairs behind his neck in suspicion; if Gori was already suspicious, then Miyagi's instincts were screaming 'Def-Con Five' at Mitsui's sincere grin.

_Studio One._

Miyagi's mind reeled at the possible schemes that were plotted against him. This happened to him before. After all, he was getting married next week, and if this was supposed to be some out-of-the-blue bachelor party, he wanted to know what he was getting into. Hell, maybe even Akagi was playing devil's advocate and was in on the whole thing, whatever it was.

As they entered the foyer of the building, the suddenly skittish point guard prayed that it would be nothing that Ayako would be upset over.

Because he might just forget the pact that he made with himself to protect his friends on that rainy memorial service and inflict _much_ bodily harm.

And if she ever found out, his bride-to-be might just exact the same justice on him.

* * *

They were all giggling with girlish delight as they filled the limousine with excited chatter, chugging glasses of champagne and nibbling on strawberries. Much to their amusement, it was suggested that they have a 'silk petal party', and all of them would have to wear silk dresses from a dress rack that was wheeled before them. Each dress was styled differently but of the same fabric and hue of silk, a simple yet deceivingly ornate motif woven tastefully into the fashion of each dress.

"It's like being gorgeous flowers belonging to the same Goddess family!" Kaname's voice out loud when they had all emerged from the dressing rooms and examined themselves in front of the full-length mirrors. They would've all said more if it wasn't for the eager stylists that emerged from out of nowhere to usher them into the next room, and all of a sudden they were being primped and sculpted into living works of art, with a very satisfied foreign man of small stature voicing what they assumed words of approval as he inspected each and every one of them. He gently tugged on a sleeve here, smoothed out an imagined crease there, sweeping his gaze over each dressed doll from head to toe.

The stylists all laughed when he started spouting words they couldn't understand, so excitedly with the clapping of his hands that they misunderstood the praise he showered all of them by joining him in applause.

The ladies were all given light cashmere shawls that matched the color motif of their dresses to protect them from the chill of the evening wind.

"Gosh, Reiko-san is sooo crazy!" Ayako said with a laugh. "Only she would think of something like this!"

"Yeah, but this is out-of-control ballin'! We look like movie stars! Was it like this when you had your anniversary, Ayako-chan?"

She nodded dreamily. "God, she was like my fairy godmother, she gave me a dream-come-true that I would've never thought of my wildest dreams!"

"Wow, are these houses? They look like palaces!" Miki crooned, careful not to plaster her face against the window.

"Wait a minute," glinted Sayuri suspiciously. "This isn't just a get-together like she's letting us on to!"

Collective stares.

"I mean, think about it… out of the blue, she gets us all together, dolled up for some sort of 'themed' party… and what could the occasion be?"

It took a few seconds before Miki's eyes grew wide as headlights at Sayuri.

Ayako was still confused. "What?"

"What's happening next week, Ayako-chan?"

All eyes were on her.

"… My wedding?"

Lightning connection.

"It can't be!"

Nanami sat back in her seat with a grin on her face. "She got you again, Ayako-chan. She's throwing you a bachelorette party."

The driver of the limousine jumped slightly at the shrieks of excitement that erupted from behind the dividing glass. He thanked God that they had reached their destination, for he wasn't sure if his ears could handle more feminine eruptions of glee, no matter how beautiful the women were.

* * *

"Thanks for your time, I know how busy it is for you, but what I have to say is of paramount importance."  
Handshake.

"Not a prob. So, what can I do for you, Yoshikawa-san?"  
Clearing of throat.

"Um, yes… This is…"

_So embarrassing… _

"I mean, what I meant to say is… first of all, congratulations."

A grateful grin.

"Thanks!"

Sigh.

Trepidation.

"And… I need to talk to you about…"

Brows raised.

"About?"

"… After your wedding…"

"Okay… you mean the reception?"

Blushing.

"… I mean, after that, when all the guests have gone home…"

"Okay."

Pause.

Realization.

"Oh…"

* * *

Whine.

"Why the hell did I agree to this again?"

"Because it's a present for you, dummy, so try to act grateful."

Glower.

"You've been awfully slack about this, Gori. God only knows what you guys are going to spring on me!"

"What the hell are you talking about? I have no clue what's going on in Mitsui's noggin', so don't act like I know what's going on."

Paranoia.

"Aren't you the least suspicious? I mean, what's with this get-up?"

Rolling eyes.

"Would you _please_ calm the fuck down? Think about it. If he wanted something nasty to happen, we wouldn't be in these suits. Hell, we'd be in the seediest strip joint in the shadiest part of town if that was what he had in mind!"

Rumination.

"…Yeah, I guess you make sense… but that still doesn't explain why we're in Swanktown Central. I mean, look around you! This ain't the jungles of Kanagawa anymore, Gori! I know Mitchy makes some good dough, but damn, can he afford to rent out this place? And there's something else…"

Exasperation.

"What now?"

"… I can't seem to stop thinking about Aya-chan…"

Snort.

"That's old news, Miyagi."

"… No… no, I mean, yeah, she's always on my mind, but… ever since this afternoon, all I _could think of_ is Aya-chan."

The bulky center held his tongue as he and Miyagi walked towards the rest of the men clad in the same attire. Of all the things that came out of the point guard's mouth, it was this that struck a deep nerve. He knew exactly what he was talking about, because no matter what he looked at or did to distract himself, he couldn't stop thinking of his girlfriend. All that time they were given their suits, he replayed the events earlier that day over and over in his head, and all he could think of was that cake Ayumi fed them, interspersed generously with torrid thoughts of Nanami that left him wiping sweat off his forehead.

_The chocolate grater…_

"Akagi-kun, looking sharp, man!"

_The cake…_

Grins and acknowledgments.

_That tea…_

"Shit, we look so friggin' fancy!"

_The deliveries…_

"Check it out, it's Coach Miwa!"

Cat calls and whistles.

"Whoa, and here comes his date!"

_"You're only supposed to have one…"_

"What the hell?! Coach Sato!"

_"… Otherwise…"_

_The **tea**._

Akagi practically wrenched Miyagi away from Coach Miwa in the middle of their handshake. "Sorry, Coach, excuse us for a bit." The point guard never had the chance to protest.

"Miyagi, remember what we ate earlier?" the center said, glancing warily around them.

"What the hell?… Uh, yeah, the cake Ayumi-san gave us."

Panicked inquiry.

"Do you remember the tea she gave us?"

Miyagi didn't like the panic in his friend's eyes. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Do you think there might've been something in it that's making us flip out?"

Wide eyes.

"Oh shit, you feel it, too?"  
Agitation.

"Damn it, I can't even think straight!" The towering center wiped the cold sweat from his brow. _I want to see Nanami **so** bad…_

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Miyagi said as he began to pace around.

"Do you think it would've helped any if I did? You do enough whining for a whole freakin' zip code!" Akagi knew he was losing his cool, but he knew better than to lose it in front of his friends. Taking a deep, purging breath, he exhaled and dug in his pocket for his cell phone, scrolling the directory for the person's number who can tell them why their brains were clamoring for their girlfriends.

* * *

She was sought out in the expanse of the living room and was led to a room with oak double doors. After quiet introduction, she was ushered in and her eyes wandered around the vastness of the bedroom.

"Thank you so much for coming."

Gasp.

"What are you talking about? Thank _you_ so much for having us! This place is so extravagant, and gigantic!"

A smile.

"I take it you were treated well at Antonio's shop?"

Sigh.

"Sweetie, we wouldn't look like this if we weren't! So wait a minute, what about you? I was a little worried when you told me you had to go ahead without us. Everything okay?"  
A nod.

"I had to make sure a few more things were ready."

Offended pretense.

"Is there something you're supposed to be telling me?"

A tilt of the head.

"A-ha! So you _were_ scheming all this time, I knew it!"

She shot her friend a triumphant little grin and watched as her eyes glanced down parquet. When she caught her gaze once more, she knew she hid so much more.

Regret.

"… May I confide something with you?"

Sudden concern.

"Of course, anything…"

Pause.

"And if I may… I would like to ask for your understanding… and pardon, in advance."

She narrowed her eyes playfully at her. "You'd better spill, missy."

* * *

They were getting impatient. Sakuragi couldn't stop glancing at his watch, Miyagi was close to making a trench with all the pacing he did, and Akagi's teeth were nearly worn down from all the ice he ground in his mouth. Mitsui had told them that the entertainment would be out in a minute or two, and that was enough to string out a little more fortitude. He went through so much trouble after all.

Rukawa was the first to leave the servants' quarters and go to the lawn where they were directed, all of them surprised at the outdoor décor and the lights that gave the tented pavilion on the lawn an ethereal glow. Kogure nearly ran into Rukawa's back as he idly stood to look at their surroundings, his eyes blinking behind his glasses as he regarded the lavish setup before them. Under the pavilion was a line of tables with champagne flutes and buckets of what looked like champagne on ice. It was odd that no one else was around, and they were all very surprised to be led into the adjacent mansion across the lawn. They supposed the party on the lawn would be a later venue.

It was expected that a group of more than twenty men would make a lot of noise as they followed an old man in the same dress suit as theirs, the whole lot too preoccupied at the enormity of the establishment they were in. The twenty-foot ceilings only amplified their voiced wonderment, their noise suddenly becoming echoes of voices and footsteps as they suddenly stood speechless at the sight of lovely ladies dressed in heavenly robes of floral silk, the men's eyes peeled wide.

A few seconds after eye contact, there was a clash of dark suits against a field of fragrant feminine flora that made Yoshi blink at the imagery, like the clashing of dark and light waves, a moment worth catching on film. Questions filled the room, pleasant sighs and smiles swirled around.

Not until he was given the signal did Yoshi announce the crowd to follow him through the front door. Both parties were confused. It seemed like they were going through doors that led to grander and grander rooms, and now they were leaving through the entrance?

They were led through a lush solarium which was lit beautifully with paper lanterns of floral hues, flowers seeming to bloom despite the cool season.

"They're the same as our dresses!" Haruko remarked as she beamed at Sakuragi. He could only grin back.

After being led through the maze of greenery, the ladies were thrilled at the spectacular décor in front of them, making the men look at each other in puzzlement.

"Wait a minute, didn't you see this already?" asked Miyagi, who in Ayako's opinion, seemed to be abnormally glued to her side the entire time since they all saw each other in the living room. Not once did he break contact between them, and his touch had a little more grip against her skin, as if he had no intention of letting go. She tried not to dwell on it, instead letting a small smile grace her face, the lights of the scenery glowing in her eyes.

"I've been getting news all day, and this… this is definitely news to me."

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please follow me," requested the former butler.

They did as they were told, shrugging as they made their way to the laid-down parquet of the pavilion. Their heads turned to the music that came from a balcony overlooking the lawn, the tremulous melody of violin strings piercing the night air, and all were spellbound. Knowing there was something more than met her eye, Ayako chanced to look towards the servants' quarters. All of a sudden, water began to leak from her eyes.

Sniffle.

"… Aya-chan? What's wrong?"

Miyagi wanted to pry more about her tears, and immediately followed her gaze.

"What…?"

Every one who saw marveled, the men gaping at their host who gazed at them gratefully, a man of the cloth to one side, Mitsui's family, and four familiar bodyguards waiting in the wings. The moment the white of her dress came into view, the rest of the silken beauties released whimpers of surprise and joined Ayako in the waterworks.

* * *

He found her seated fast asleep, head pillowed against her forearms on one of the prep tables in the kitchen. He moved to wake her but hesitated, his eyes lingering on her flour-streaked cheek and the childlike serenity of her sleeping face. With the old proprietor taking care of loose ends at the Nakamichi estate, Ayumi had to hold down the fort at the restaurant, and with the elaborate designs and meticulous décor of the cake and pastries, it was no wonder she was tired. Jackson frowned at the bandage that was coming undone at her wrist. Glancing around, he found three notes left beside her sleeping head, all congratulating her on a job well done and thanking her for working so hard. Yoshi's kitchen crew and wait staff have been working for him for years, and to compliment her spoke volumes of her work ethic. The old man was lucky to find someone so dedicated to her craft. With one wedding down and one more to go, she would need her strength and sleep if she's to give thrice the effort she doled out today. It was time to take the pastry chef home.

"Ayumi-san," he cooed, placing his thick hand against her shoulder.

"Hm?" She blinked drowsily before turning her head to the rousing voice, disoriented. "What time is it?"

"It's late, I'm going to drive you home."

Her face crumpled sleepily at his words. "Home is an hour away… here is comfy."  
He nearly let out a laugh. "You're going to need a chiropractor in the morning if you keep sleeping like that."

"… Can you schedule the appointment then?"

Soft chuckle.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

Pause.

"…Just how late is it?"

"A quarter past one."

For a moment he thought she fell back asleep, but then she slowly sat up straight and blinked a few times.

Left wrist favored.

"I need to call Nanami-chan… her place is a little closer than mine… and it's too late to go home…"

Quickly noted.

"I have her number, would you like me to call her ahead for you?" he said, taking out his cell phone. Glancing once again at her as he scrolled the directory for her niece's number, he found her nodding back to sleep. "Ayumi-san?"

"… Jackson-san… please… just let me stay here… Cinderella doesn't mind working hard…"

Cheshire grin.

"You really want to sleep in the kitchen?"

Sigh.

"… Why're you so nice to me…"

Brows raised.

Mumbling.

"… Best-dressed godfather…"

Jackson's smile flattened to a thoughtful line as he stepped forward to peer into her face. She was so out of it, she barely felt the brush of his handkerchief against her cheek, wiping away the evidence of her efforts. He watched her sleep for a while, silently thinking of how he was going to pick her up without waking her. Either way, he wasn't going to let her sleep in the kitchen.

Snaking his hand just below the hollow of her throat, he pulled her gently up until her head was up and resting against his hard abdomen. Supporting her back with one arm, he hooked the other under her legs and lifted her up from her seat, leaning back a bit to let her head lull against his chest with only a whimper for protest. He sighed as he looked down on her, frowning once more at her wrist which she cradled protectively even in her sleep. Once he had her secured in the car, he went back inside to grab something to drink and locked up the restaurant. He tried calling Nanami's number, but no one answered, and after he had installed that new lock system in her apartment, breaking in would be much more difficult. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he called Sakai's cell phone instead.

"It's me… listen, I don't know if I'll be back at the house tonight… no, I'm not in trouble, I just have to get Ayumi-san to bed— no no, it's not like _that_, I meant I have to take her home… I feel bad, she told me to just let her sleep in the kitchen, she's so far gone and I don't know where to take her… huh?... Hey, why didn't I think of that, it would cut travel time in half… Could you disarm the alarms for me?... thanks, Sakai… yes, but if I leave her there, she's going to be startled if she finds herself alone in a strange house… I know, I know, like I said, it's not like that, all right? Thanks again, I'll see you tomorrow."

He opened the driver's side door and got in, closing the door quietly before turning on the engine. Taking one more look at his new charge, he drove off to her accommodations for the night.

* * *

Mitsui was afraid to blink.

"I… I can't believe this is happening."

He could only stare at her, sitting at the edge of the bed, still in her gown, looking down at the ring on her finger. She finally looked up at him with coy eyes, and from the way her shoulders rose to take a deep breath, he knew she was nervous.

_Good God, so am I_…

He walked to where she was, never taking his eyes off her. Kneeling down before her, he took her left hand and kissed each knuckle, eyes sliding shut, relishing the sigh escaping her lips.

"You did all this for me…"

She beamed.

"You are so beautiful… why do I even deserve you…"

She tilted her head at him before bestowing a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"Because I love you."

On the nose.

"Because you love me."

Taking initiative, he kissed her full on the lips, his hand clutching the back of her head and his arm embracing her tightly. He leaned her back onto the softness of the bed, his tongue urgent to explore her mouth. Hearing a stifled moan in her throat, he pulled back just enough to see the heated flush on her cheeks and caught the shy smile she gave him. Kissing her once more, his hands roamed her clothed body until his deft fingers found the zipper and pulled it undone, the tips of his fingers felt like they could catch on fire with the heat of the skin on her back. From the moment he saw her on the lawn, his fingers itched to unravel her gown from her creamy skin; he barely registered what the minister was saying.

Reiko had a hard time focusing on anything other than his lips that were wreaking havoc on her senses as he kissed and tasted every inch of skin on her face, her neck, nibbling at the shell of her ear. She thought he was branding her with each kiss, that the room had become noticeably warm. Not until he had completely taken her gown off did she feel the heat somewhat dissipate into the air between them, but her temperature surged once more at the realization of her nakedness and the weight of her husband's stare, his eyes following each line, curve and contour of her body. Unable to stand his eyes, she brought her arms up reflexively to cover herself, only to have them pushed away by his strong arms and pinned lightly against either side of her. He bit back a growl when she finally met his heavy gaze, and when she took a deep breath, the deepened hollow of her throat was suddenly irresistible.

Mitsui felt as though his heart could burst. How many times had he imagined this, dreamed of this sight before him? She was so beautiful, she smelled so sweet… _so delicious…_ His eyes drank her in, and when he finally looked back at her face, her eyes averted away from him, her cheeks blushing furiously. Leaning forward, he tilted her face to him until she met his eyes.

"Do you know what you are to me, Reiko?"

She shook her head slightly.

"You are the most precious person, the one I'd do anything in the world for."

He kissed her breathless once more, pulling slightly away to let her catch her breath as he rested his forehead against hers.

"You've given me heaven and earth when you said yes."

The hollow of her throat fell prey to his mouth, a gasp escaping her lips.

"I don't think you knew what you were asking when you said you wanted to… _learn_… from me…"

His hand brushed against the skin under her breast, relishing the silky softness against his fingertips before he cupped it entirely, his breath hitching upon hearing the breathy mewl she released. _No_, he thought as he caressed it gently, his other hand stroking light circles against the skin of her clavicle. He refused to teach her anything until she felt the ecstasy he experienced in touching her, until her nerves transmitted nothing but pleasure throughout her body.

_Over and over and over again… _

Mitsui kissed her mouth once more before engulfing her taut mounds.

A moan.

He would show her how she made him feel.

Lick.

How powerless he was with just one smile.

Whimper.

How boneless he felt with every kiss she returned.

Suckle.

How helpless he was to feel her skin sear his, how frustrated to the point of insanity that he couldn't react the way he wanted to.

_Yes, tonight she would learn how to **feel**…_

"Hi…sa… shi…"

His head whipped up at her incoherence, his pupils dilated at her throat before constricting with unhindered lust at her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. And when she did, his look stole her breath as he ground out a word from his mouth.

"Again."

Reiko's brows furrowed slightly, confused and a bit alarmed at his feral gaze. Did she say something wrong? By the time she blinked, he was ravaging her throat, shocked at how quickly he moved and how her eyes could only register blurry images of her surroundings. She could do nothing but shut her eyes and ride the drugging caress of Mitsui's lips.

"Again," he urged raspily below her ear before licking the skin there. His throat rumbled in recompense at her fingers that lost themselves in his hair. Mitsui plundered her mouth again, his grip on her tightening slightly at the tentative brush of her tongue against his, her hands leaving his hair and stroking his sinewed back with sparks of pleasure than ran the length of his spine. Only when he returned his mouth to her breasts did she find nerves to her vocal cords, writhing and heaving beneath him.

"Hi… sashi…"

Never once did he think his name uttered from her lips could drive him insane, spoken fuel to the fire within him, stoking his senses to hypersensitivity as blood rushed to his head as he looked up at her, tongue devouring the sweetness of her. Her back arched in response, offering more of what he took hungrily.

Lust.

Mewl.

"Again, love… say it _again_…_"_

Moan.

"… Hisashi…"

Reiko's eyes finally cracked open when she felt his arms tighten around her abdomen, the side of his face pressed against her chest. He looked a mixture of pleasure and pain, and her fingers wove into his hair as if to soothe him. "Hisashi?" she questioned and he looked up at her, her eyes so full of concern and lips gorged and red from his greediness. Mitsui couldn't leave them alone.

"I've never heard you say my name," he said before kissing her again. "I never thought it would feel so good to hear you say it."

She was too dazed to reply when he withdrew, scant inches from her face.

"Hisashi…"

He grinned sinfully.

"Yes, my love... just like that…"

He provided her many, many more reasons to say his name that night, over and over, with breathtaking ecstasy and bliss behind each caress he gave. It was no shock to him that he was the one learning so much from her; how he could get so stimulated with just his spoken name was beyond him. Mitsui took his time, knowing that what he endured in the past, the emptiness and restless nights it took for this moment to happen were nothing compared to the reward she offered.

She said yes.

Groan.

"Ooh…"

She was his.

Whimper.

"…Yes…"

Grunt.

"Oh Hisashi…"

Pleasure so exquisite, it was almost painful.

Pant.

"I love you…"

He would show her just how much.

"Reiko…"

And he would never ever let go.

* * *

It was the best sleep she had ever gotten in her life that she could remember.

It was also the most embarrassing and awkward way to wake up.

Ayumi sat by the window of a bakery she had discovered during a delivery to an event she catered at her niece's university. The old couple who ran the place had been so sweet to her then, and the baker's wife always gave her the freshest bear claws and cream puffs out of the oven. From the moment she stepped into the bakery, she was treated like family, and they never failed to give her a mug of her favorite tea. As she sipped absently at the hot brew, she stared at the landscaping crew across the street that manicured the lawn and gardens of the university, her thoughts so far away from where she was now.

She couldn't recall how she got on that bed, nor could she remember having checked into a hotel like she thought she did when the sun's rays peeked through heavy curtains and teased her eyes open. Letting out a sigh, she closed them and snuggled her face into the pillow, only to snap them wide open when she felt something yank at her midriff until her back hit something warm and solid. Her heart lodged in her throat and she willed herself not to scream, fear streaming itself into a thousand questions in her head. Since when did she turn into someone who slept with a stranger? When did she even meet any guy in the past twenty-four hours? Was he _that _nice that she jumped into bed with him? She rolled her eyes at that last thought. With her luck lately, that would never happen, nor would she let it. If she was of sound mind, that is. She must've been drugged, taken to some hideaway where the owner of this arm across her middle most likely had his way with her. Shutting her eyes once more, she bit her lip to calm down, taking in an even breath before looking down at the arm that held her captive.

It was black sleeved, and as she eyed the silver cufflinks closely, she deduced the man was wearing formal evening attire.

_What, was he **that** eager he couldn't even take his evening coat off?_

Perhaps it was too much to hope that the man still had his pants on. With the zipper up.

Holding back a huff, she lay perfectly still, wondering just how she was going to extract herself from the clutches of this man whose face she didn't even remember. Her thoughts digressed to what kind of hypnotic drug she was given, trying her best to recall if she had strayed from her intended path home to some bar on the way. Just as she was about to pinch the sleeve fabric between her fingers and pull the heavy arm off her, her captor tightened his hold on her and sleepily nuzzled the back of her neck, a deep voice rumbling words she couldn't make out. Not only was the man ridiculously strong in his sleep, he sounded like a giant!

Plan A was out the window. She grimaced as she tried to relax into her pillow. It would take a while to think of Plan B; it wasn't like she was going anywhere. After what seemed like an eternity of feeling the rhythmic expansion of his chest against her back, she realized that she still had her clothes on, more importantly her underwear. After the initial relief, curiosity began to eat at her and she wanted to see just who it was that had her trapped like a bug in a jar.

Suddenly, she got her wish. The man had unlatched his arm from her and rolled away. Taking a deep breath, she ever so slowly inched toward the edge of bed, and she was almost out when he had rolled back towards her, his arm instinctively moving to yank her back to her prison.

Of course, she nearly whispered out loud, this type thing only happened to her. Ayumi swore to herself that if and when she got out of this, she would move town and change her identity. The man burrowed into the spot on the pillow next to her head, and this time she understood his muffled words.

"…'s cold…"

When she thought about it, it _was_ kind of cold.

It would take another eternity for her to work up the courage to turn from her position and face her sleeping captor.

* * *

Air from his lungs came out as light puffs of steam from his mouth as he ran down the winding turns of the main road, the soft morning rays of the sun against the side of his face. It wasn't because he had trouble sleeping in the past few nights that he chose to run, and it certainly wasn't because he found a way to wake up in what he thought was one of the most embarrassing situations he'd ever been in. He would run because he was simply out of shape, and because if he kept his body tired, it would eventually give up and cave into sleep. This was the logic that he forced himself to think, like a repetitive prayer uttered in the hopes of being understood.

It definitely wasn't because he turned drunk red at the thought of waking up next to Yoshi's pastry chef.

Huff.

Her body flush-fit against his.

Inhale.

Her face inches from his own.

Exhale.

Beautiful chestnut eyes wide with surprise.

He stopped his run abruptly, mouth slightly open and lungs heaving for air, the morning was so quiet that the only sound he could hear was his own labored breath. He pressed a button on his watch to halt the stopwatch function, noting that he'd only been running for an hour and a half. Closing his eyes, he shook his head as if to shake his thoughts clear before continuing down the path toward town, resuming the stopwatch once more.

Another half hour later, he had reached the northern end of the university campus, where the pungent smell of freshly cut grass was overpowering. He swung a knowing gaze at the bakery and smiled at the old man sweeping the sidewalk of the bakery, always fastidious at keeping his establishment tidy. Approaching the baker, he was greeted with a grin.

"Well, hello, Jackson-san!" he said with an outstretched hand. The guard happily shook it.

"Good morning, sir. I see you're out and about again. Done with the baking?"

The baker laughed. "The boss decided to show up today and help out."

"The boss?"

Another laugh.

"My wife."

"I see." Jackson briefly excused himself before turning around and taking his shirt off, the article drenched in sweat that he had to wring the perspiration off, dripping small streams onto the ground.

Evidence of a good run.

"This is a first that I've seen you go for a run," commented the old man, "and it looks like you've outdone yourself, all the water in your body's on the sidewalk! Come inside and meet my wife, ask her for one of those orange bottled drinks my grandkids leave in the refrigerator." The old man paused and gave Jackson the once over. "And don't wear that wet thing anymore. I'd better find you a fresh shirt, otherwise the boss might get the wrong idea," he said with a wink. After hearing laughter bellow out of brawny bodyguard, the old man propped his broom by the glass windows and bid him to follow. Once inside, the baker's wife was promptly introduced to Jackson, with amused giggles and blushing apologies for the state of his undress mingling with the cinnamon aroma in the room.  
"Papa, the grandkids' shirts are on the lower drawer of the dresser," she said at her husband's retreating back. The baker turned back to her suddenly, his nose sniffing in the air.  
"Did you put those apple and cinnamon bear claws in the oven or did I, Mama?"

"Neither of us, Ayumi-chan did."

Jackson stiffened at the name, the old man's wife not catching the surprise on the guard's face.

"All right, big fella, let's get you some Gatorade before you dehydrate. Wouldn't want those poor muscles of yours to dry out."

She laughed at the sight of blood rushing to his face as she left the pastry case and disappeared into the back kitchen.

He ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. This certainly _wasn't_ good. He reeked of sweat, was practically drenched from head to toe, and the old man might have to take out his mop and clean up after him. He didn't need the shirt, really. He just wanted to smell something other than the grass they just chopped outside. Surely, it couldn't be the _same_ Ayumi whose body was caged between his chest and arms not too long ago… He shut his eyes at the thought. And wasn't 'Ayumi' a common Japanese name? There must be more than one person in this town named Ayumi, he was sure of it. As if to distance himself from any chance of his surfacing insecurities manifesting themselves, he walked to the far end of the pastry counter and leaned against the side of the pastry case, facing the stairs where the old man ascended, his back to the kitchen entrance, arms crossed against his muscled chest. He didn't like being half naked in public, regardless of how nice and friendly the old man and his wife were. He was thankful that the bakery was empty. Seconds ticked by and wondered if it was too much of him to ask to use their shower.

The old man came down the stairs all smiles with a shirt in hand, and not a moment too soon, familiar laughter rang from the kitchen, a voice he knew well getting louder and louder, carried by footsteps that came closer and closer.

Honeyed voice.

"Here's the drink you requested, sir."

Curtly, Jackson thanked the baker and took the shirt, donning the garment hastily before turning around to meet the sudden shock in Ayumi's eyes. He couldn't stop from turning red. What could one say when embarrassment like lightning struck twice?

"… Th-thank you very much…"

The baker's wife emerged from the kitchen with a small tray of pastries and coffee mugs. "What did I tell you, Ayumi-chan! Still don't believe me?"

"Believe what?" asked her husband.

"I told her that there was a shirtless man with the physique of a Roman god waiting for her to quench his thirst."

Guard and pastry chef gaped at the older woman smiling sweetly at them.

"Now, dear, you mustn't play Cupid. It's hard enough to get Ayumi-chan to visit us, let alone help, and the last thing we need is to chase her away." It came out as sweet-talk more than a reprimand. Ayumi wanted to vanish into thin air.

"Young man, this is Ayumi-chan, goddess of everything sweet. Ayumi-chan, meet Jackson-san."

She was first to move and play along, offering her hand out for a handshake, hoping that he would do the same for the sake of saving them more embarrassment. Her mother wasn't the only one trying to set her up. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jackson-san."

"The pleasure's all mine, Ayumi-san." The hand in his was trembling as he gently shook it, her unease easily betrayed.

"Now that we're all acquainted, why don't we have some breakfast before the rush of students come in?" suggested the old man. "You don't have to go anywhere soon, do you, Ayumi-chan?"

"N-no, Jii-chan." She cursed herself. That was not the answer she wanted to give! She secretly prayed for Jackson to gently let him down.

"May I wash my hands first?" the guard asked.

"Sure! Bathroom's up the stairs to the left."

"Thank you."

When Jackson left, Ayumi peered outside and chewed on the inside of her lip, searching herself for a ghost of an idea of how to get out of the bakery as fast yet politely as she could. What were the chances of meeting him at _this_ bakery and time of the day? Looking up to the sky, she silently asked God if He was laughing at her. Why couldn't he refuse? It wasn't like she didn't know the man; unlike all the other men she was introduced to, he was actually pleasant, a good person worth knowing. And perhaps that was why she wanted to get out of there: he was someone whose friendship she cared about, because he was nice and didn't expect anything of her. Why, of all the things to drink in Yoshi's kitchen, did it have to be the tea from the thermos? Never mind waking up with his arm coiled around her waist like a boa constrictor; it was her fault for leaving that thermos of tea out from which he drank half a mug's worth. She didn't believe her friend who sent the tea from Peru when she claimed it was the closest thing to pure aphrodisiac, so potent that consuming more than two cups would drive a man insane. She scoffed at the idea, laughing at her when she added that it only worked on men. Otherwise, it was just a calming hot cup of tea for women that left a spicy tingle in the mouth. Ayumi wished she had put a label on the thermos saying 'biochemical hazard'.

As the couple chattered about pastries and grandkids, Ayumi thought back to the quiet mornings she had in the same bakery, when her mother had been much more aggressive in setting her up with ridiculously dunce and egotistic dates, when all she wanted was space and time to pick up the pieces of a love she so painfully lost…

"Isn't that right, Ayumi-chan?"

She turned and blinked at them. "Huh?"

"Yoshi-kun at the French restaurant in the hills, you work for him now, right?"

"Yes. Well, not permanently anyway." Ayumi smiled at the couple who smiled back at her, the old man telling her that he could change Yoshi's mind about hiring her on full-time. She was reminded of why she came to this bakery every week in the first place. The thought of running into Jackson today suddenly wasn't so awkward anymore.

"That's okay, Jii-chan, I still have a catering business to run. We sort of have an agreement is all."

_Because I'm really here to forget…_

The old lady arched a playful brow. "Oh? And what sort of agreement is that?"

"The 'securities and exchange' sort."

She giggled at the faces they gave her, stopping when Jackson's built physique descended down the stairs.

_Ding!_

"I'll get that."

"I'll get that."

Old and young pastry master looked at each other and laughed. "Mama, please entertain Jackson-san for a bit while I help Ayumi-chan with the bear claws."

Excusing herself, she stood as the guard was seating himself, the tension between them evaporating with the small grin that pulled the corner of her mouth. While the baker's wife poured him tea, he shot her a quizzical look, to which she mouthed a silent reply.  
_"Good luck."_

She took her grin with her and followed the old man into the kitchen, leaving Jackson all alone to face the grilling he was going to get from the old woman.

* * *

"Mom, they're here!" Ami hollered at her parents in the kitchen. Dressed in her Sunday best, she bounded after her parents to the SUV waiting for them outside. Greeted by Miller, they filed through the opened passenger door and strapped themselves in.

And off to church they went.

At the cathedral, old teammates gathered together in a huddle round their jittery friend, Akagi shaking his head resignedly.

"I mean, what if she changes her mind? Dude, I'd be so totally fucked!"

Mitsui laughed and punched his shoulder. "Language, Miyagi! You're in church, for crying out loud! She won't change her mind. And besides, you're getting ahead of yourself, that happens _after_ the reception, you're not even past the ceremony yet."

Harmonious agreement.

"I'm just saying," he faltered, running a nervous hand through his curly hair.

"Man, don't worry about it. You should be so lucky, you get to marry your high school sweetheart. Not too many people get to say that in this world."

Chorus of assent.

"So just chill, all right? And don't forget to say 'I do' when the priest asks you. We all know how starry-eyed you get whenever you see her," Kogure smirked.

Laughter.

"Speaking of which, the holy man is here, we better get ready."

Just before they got through the tall doors of the church, Miyagi called out to his friends.

"Guys, I just wanna say, you're the best bunch of people I've ever had the privilege of knowing. Thanks for being here with me on the most important day of my life."

They all gave him a brotherly hug followed by slaps to his back, with Akagi laughing and wincing at him. "You've done it now, Miyagi. You're paying for my dental bill with all the cavities you just gave me."

"This is so damn touching, it's giving me the fuzzies!" teased Sakuragi, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter.

"All right, folks," led Akagi through the door. "Let's get Miyagi married."

The pews were packed with people, more friends than family, and when the organ played, the air in the cathedral changed to that of majesty and grandeur, the hairs on Ami's back standing on end as she watched her brother and his friends walk single file down the aisle. She returned her brother's wink with a wide grin, and she admired how tall and handsome all the groom's men were. Her breath caught at how beautiful the bridesmaids were, her now sister-in-law smiling sweetly at her as she secretly waved at her. And when the bride finally made her way down the aisle, she was star-struck with awe at Ayako's pristine gown that shimmered brightly against the light of the cathedral's chandeliers. It would become the basis of every one of her wedding dreams.

Miyagi nearly forgot to respond to the priest as Kogure predicted, jolting out of his focused reverie at his bride. Ayako's brows raised at him, eyes expectant of his reply.

"I-I do, oh my God, I do!"

Hushed laughter erupted from the witnesses in the pews, with the groom's men rolling their eyes and grinning madly, the whole scene caught on digital video for posterity to witness again and again.

* * *

Spring had erupted beautifully throughout the town of Kanagawa, with the first tips of dew-kissed leaves glistening in the early morning sun. The first blossoms from the magnolia trees that lined the main driveway of the neighborhood looked like snow caps on lush foliage, and birds filled the air with songs of the season.

She did not feel as serene as the scenery outside her window. Not when she felt bile rise up her throat every time she saw, smelled or even thought about anything that resembled food. Even water made her sick.

She couldn't understand this irritability. Perhaps her body was protesting the daily routine she's been forced go through? Or maybe it was the amount of food they've been asking her to eat? Everything was measured to the milligram, and if she snacked, she had to jot it down on a piece of paper or call someone at the lab to make sure the data was collected. She never had a problem before, and she frowned at this. Calling to her dog, she led the way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Reiko found her husband scampering about the kitchen, shirtless with only his bottom pajamas on over the sink, paring the skin off a Granny Smith apple into one long curly strip. She would've let herself smile if it weren't for the wave of nausea that hit her, and for this she felt guilty because from the looks of it, Mitsui was trying to give her breakfast in bed. She tried not to look at the tray with the plate of eggs and pancakes, and was about to silently go back to upstairs to bed when her dog barked and gave away her presence.

Swinging his head at the dog by her feet, he sucked in a gasp. "You're supposed to still be sleeping!"

Apologetic grin.

"… I can go back upstairs and pretend I didn't see anything?"

He laughed and placed the paring knife down. "No sweetheart, don't leave. Just… I just wanted to do something nice for you," and then sheepishly, "you know, trying to make myself look good."

She flashed him one of those smiles that made his heart sink to his guts. "But you already look good," she said, her eyes straying to the muscled planes of his chest. It stroked his ego that she thought of him so; being physically pleasing to her eyes was a _very_ good thing. Perhaps more for him than for her. He returned a grin.

She almost forgot about the unsettling of her stomach until he offered her a forkful of eggs to which she reacted wide-eyed and had her running to the nearest bathroom by the den.

"Reiko!"

He raced after her to find her crouched over the toilet, her bout of vomiting had apparently passed as quickly as it had come. "Reiko…?" She had a hand over her mouth, brow furrowed and seeming in pain. Taking a hand towel, he bent down to wipe her mouth, and she looked so embarrassed.

"I'm sorry…"

"No, no… maybe it was the way I cooked the eggs—"

"I… don't think it's the eggs… perhaps I should see Dr. Yoshikawa." She stood from her crouched position, only to fall forward and lose consciousness.

He caught her on reflex. "Oh my God, Reiko!"

Carrying her in his arms, he took her to the kitchen and punched the intercom button so hard the box nearly broke. Mitsui didn't want to think of what could've happened if he wasn't there to catch her fall. As he waited for one of the guards to answer, he assessed her breathing and pulse.

Present.

Baritone voice.

"Yes, is everything all right?"

"Please come to the kitchen, Reiko just fainted!"

* * *

It was so quiet in the lab that only the low whir of the air conditioning system could be heard. All white coats huddled around the flat screen panel that showed odd tones and shades of gray, with numbers and letters on the margins of the screen. It seemed that all of them had been holding their breaths, their eyes transfixed at the small masses projected on the screen.

Yoshikawa was first to breathe.

"_Wow_…"

To the untrained eye, one might assume that they were merely looking at a TV screen with fixed static. But in the eyes of this group of scientists, they were looking at a miracle.

Whispers.

"It's not really a surprise, is it…"

"… But I thought that measures were taken…?"

Shake of the head.

"I never imposed it on them..."

Another bout of silence.

Yoshikawa ironed out his brow before turning his back to the flat screen to face his colleagues. "Gentlemen… when we took this job, we were told to be prepared for the unexpected… that we would always have a new challenge with each step toward success…" He turned his head back and nodded at the screen. "And this, gentlemen, is our biggest challenge yet."

Sighs erupted from the huddle of white around him. They all had the same thought in mind.

Clearing of the throat.

"I have copied you guys on some of the ramifications of the electric current on migrating cells and problems we will face with the immersion process… Honestly, I expected this sooner, but… regardless, the chamber will not be the only thing leaching her body of energy, and this," he said, turning his attention back to the flat panel screen. "Is our newest project."

Lungfuls of breath.

"I tied the bell once, and I'll do it again. Please find the new directives in the folders. And," he hesitated with a sigh, "pray for me… I'm no longer facing a cat outside. Should things go badly, I would like for my epitaph to read, 'valiantly faced and fought a tiger to the death'."

Sympathetic grins graced the faces of his colleagues as they parted to give him way. Just before he crossed the threshold of the conference room, he turned at the call of his name.

"Yoshikawa-san… he will be tame."

At that, the lab coordinator smiled and sought the pacing animal outside.

* * *

Shooting pool had become a three a.m. ritual with him and the resident radiologist of the hospital, as well as the few outgoing interns from the hematology wing. The pool table had been given as a gift by the wife of the hospital's biggest benefactor, a sweet old lady who was half-Japanese, half-French and spoke with a thick French accent. With downtime in the wee hours of the morning, it was a God-send.

"So what's new with you, Kiminobu?"

Seven solid.

"Not much."

Corner pocket.

"Actually, nothing at all."

Chalk to stick.

"Oh? No developments with that cute resident in the ER?"

Four solid.

Smile.

Shot.

"She definitely knows I'm interested now."

Side pocket.

A silent 'wow' erupted from his companion's mouth.

"I need details, stat."

Laughter.

Kogure hesitated for a moment.

"Doctor, he's not responding," said one of the interns.

"Check the pulse."

"All right, all right, I'll tell you!"

A snicker.

"We got him back! Stabilize with the IV drip…"

Someone handed Kogure a cup of coffee.

Nod.

"Proceed."

Kogure took a moment to sigh.

"Oh no, Kussmaul breathing! This is gonna be good!"

He made a face. "Very funny. Anyway… so… she had just finished suturing this skateboarder's cut on his hand… and I just happened to walk into the room to get a bag of saline…"

Grin.

"The prognosis is looking fair so far."

Dr. Kiminobu rolled his eyes. "So I asked her if she needed any help with anything, even offered to throw the used cotton in the trash…"

His audience was hanging on every word.

"And then… I don't know who left a stool sticking from under the bed, but I didn't see it and tripped—"

Gasps.

"And my head hit the corner of the cabinet."

All eyes were on his right temple and the thin gash surrounded by a bruise.

"Her hands were on my head even before I opened my eyes from wincing in pain… and I became her next patient on the bed."

Blinks.

The radiologist brought a hand over his eyes. "This is sounding like a very bad porn movie…"

The interns laughed.

"Aw, knock it off. She means more than just _that_, come on now…"

Reprimanded.

"Okay okay, sorry 'bout that. We're overworked, underpaid, undersexed, it's a late weekend and we're a bunch of men with no dates. So go on already."

Huff.

A pause.

"Then she cleaned the cut on my head… and I apologized for being a klutz… she told me it wasn't my fault, and that she should've been more observant and put the stool away."

Kogure got up and stood against the window to watch the lights that made the city glow like jewels. "After that, she said she was sorry for not being able to heal the cut faster, then offered to get the saline for me, even hook it up for my patient."

Whistles.

"Now _that's_ service for you."

"What a sweetheart!"

"She's a keeper!"

He grinned. "So I told her that she didn't have to do any of those things, but that what would really help me heal faster is a good nutritious meal served in a nice restaurant, and that her being there would assure proper patient compliance."

Everyone was cheering for him at this point.

"And?!" The radiologist was practically gripping the edge of the pool table.

"And then passengers from a six-car pile-up wheeled through the ER."

"Whaaat?!"

His colleague cursed, the interns shook their heads in their hands and wailed. Sighing, the radiologist shrugged.

"At least she knows you're interested. What did she say before the pile-up arrived?"

It was Kogure's turn to sigh. "I think I stunned her with the suggestion, and after I said 'please', she just looked at me with her mouth slightly open, like I just swallowed a sword."

The radiologist turned his gaze to the ceiling. "The prognosis suddenly turned from fair to guarded."

All of a sudden, the door to the lounge opened, and Kogure's heart skipped a beat. _She_ was standing in the doorway in her white coat, her eyes trained directly on him.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," her dulcet voice said, "Kiminobu-sensei, may I have a word with you?"

They all watched him walk to the door and close it gently behind him. As soon as they were both in the hallway, every one in the room vaulted to the door and pressed an ear against it.

* * *

A smile.

"I'm sorry to disturb your pool play."

So nervous.

"No no, it's actually a pleasant surprise."

_Very._

"I'm making my last round before my shift ends, and since you became a patient of mine recently, I wanted to see if you were feeling okay."

_Can you be any sweeter?_

"…I… Yes, I feel much better, thanks… Um, listen… about what I said earlier…"

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that as well."

_Heart, calm down, calm down…_

"I'm afraid I work the rest of the PM shift for the next two weeks, so unless you plan on starving till then, you're going to have to be a good patient and eat your greens to heal faster."

Kogure tried not to let the disappointment show on his face, simply nodding at her words as a show of understanding.

"If it's any consolation…"

A pair of theater tickets.

"A patient came by to give me these out of appreciation, and she wouldn't let me refuse them. I work that night, so I can't really use them. Perhaps you can go?"

For a brief moment while she spoke, he had hoped that she was asking him to go with her. He quietly took the tickets in his hands. Going alone would make him feel empty, just as not being able to have dinner, or not having _any_ sort of contact with her. He took a good look at her, peered into the eyes he knew better than his own. Was he going to let it end like this?

"Kiminobu-sensei?"

_This is about being on the offense._

"Yes?"

_With nothing to lose but the girl to gain._

"Uh, right."

A pause.

"I'm glad you're feeling better." She looked down her watch. "Well, I've got to go. Enjoy the tickets, Kiminobu-sensei, and have a good night."

After receiving an apologetic smile from her, he watched her walk down the hallway, away from him and a missed opportunity.

Behind the door of the lounge, heads hung and shook in disappointment.

"Wait!"

He ran towards her as she turned her head. Kogure willed his lungs to take even breaths as he shortened the gap between them.

"If—If I get you that night off… will you go see the show with me?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "… You can do that?"

"Yes, yes I can."

There were perks to being the hospital director's good friend. After all the times he's saved him from failing medical school and being served divorce papers by his wife, it was his turn to call in a favor or two. "If I make it happen, will you go to the show with me?"

A moment passed before a smile bloomed on her face. "If you can get me the next night off as well, I'll pay for dinner."

Relieved beyond words, Kogure let out a quiet laugh. "I don't think I can let a lady pay for dinner."

She beamed at him and giggled, thrilling him to the bone. "Okay then, if you make it happen, I'll _think_ about letting you pay for dinner."

"So is that a yes?"

She extended her hand out for him to shake. "Deal."

Kogure took her hand in his and sealed their agreement, holding onto her a little longer than he should have, not that she seemed to care. She was too busy smiling at him in disbelief.  
He watched her go until her grinning face disappeared behind the elevator doors. He went back to the lounge eventually, not knowing if he floated there or walked, the floor didn't seem to stay under his feet. Greeted by hopeful faces with held breaths, thunderous cheer erupted from the lounge, prompting the nurses on the floor to come by and shush them silly.

And hush they did.

* * *

Fuji found it funny to see Mitsui fuss so much at Reiko, and he was wondering why he was carrying her in a bridal hold against him. Sakai was fluffing a pillow on the chair, and Mitsui let her down onto it as if she would break. Miller caught up to him as he made it to the veranda, and he nearly let out a laugh when Mitsui sounded like a waiter, waiting on Reiko hand and foot.

"Are you sure you don't need anything? Water? Juice? Food?"

Reiko shut her eyes and laughed. "I am sure. May I please have a few moments with them alone?"

"But—"

"Please?"

It was the shooting guard's undoing. He relented. "All right… but if I hear the slightest sigh from you, I'm coming over."

All three of them laughed as he reluctantly left. Turning her head to the guards, she beckoned them to sit.

"So," started Fuji as he scooted his seat closer towards hers, "what's this all about?"

"The way he's looking after you, Nakamichi-dono, we might have to start looking for another job."

She grinned and shook her head. "With the way he is now, I may need you to save me."

Fuji switched onto sentry mode. "Has he hurt you in any way? Because if he did—"

He was silenced with her hand against his arm. "No, Fuji-san. Not at all. He is just a little overprotective, that is all."

Miller shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that, I don't think. He's being trained to be one of us, after all."

She looked past their shoulders. "Where is Mr. Jackson?"

"Probably saving the pastry chef again," Sakai snickered. "Should we wait for him?"

"Perhaps you can relay all this to him." She looked down at her hands. "I… I have not been well lately, as you all know…"

Suspicion had all three men holding their breaths.

"And I am expected to have many bouts of weakness in the months to come."

Sakai's face was first to show concern. "… What did they tell you?"  
"Are you going to be all right?"

"Is there anything we can do?"

Reiko loved the sincerity of her bodyguards. "Well, I… may need you to help Hisashi… with some encouragement. He has been so worried about me lately, and… I am beginning to fear my condition."

"Can you tell us why he's worried?" Miller asked, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. Reiko had always been a reticent person, and in their years of service, it took much coaxing for her to disclose any discomfort if she thought it would bother them.

They watched her gaze fall to her lap once more, her fingers fidgeting with the ring she wore. When a tear escaped a corner of one eye, their hearts sank, but when she smiled and let more tears fall unhindered, they were confused.

"Nakamichi-dono, please don't cry," cooed Fuji as he fished for a handkerchief from his pocket, only to find that Miller had already beaten him to it.

"Can you tell us more of what they told you at the lab?" asked Sakai. All three were now leaning closer.

"I… Yoshikawa-san said it was going to be difficult to do any more training from now on…"

More tears.

Sakai reached out to rub her back in consolation.

"So I am going to have to stop…"

The younger guards knitted their brows in response.

"… Because he said I will have to reserve my energy… and…"

Miller gently placed his hand over hers. She held onto it.

_Sniff_.

"I might endanger more than just my life."

Fuji quickly shot a look of concern at his younger colleague. He would never forget that rainy night on the exercise lawn, when she took all four of them down, knocked two of them out cold and bruised Miller's ribs to a point where he couldn't breathe. Did the lab coordinator predict she would lose herself again? That she would run away and get injured again? He hoped to God not.

"Nakamichi-dono, we know how important it is for you to move… but… we have to do whatever we can to protect you from bodily harm… we don't want you to get hurt."

Reiko nodded through her tears with a ghost of a smile. "I know, Fuji-san. I know…"

Sakai supposed he was hanging around Jackson too much, because he was getting one of those funny suspicions. "What else did Yoshikawa-san tell you?" he asked.

"… That I should not be put under any stress… that I might sleep a lot..."

"I'll make sure to have a pillow around at all times, if it helps," offered Miller. It earned him a smile.

"It is not necessary, but Hisashi would be very happy if you did."

The older guard gently prodded on. "Have they discussed what to do with the toxin build-up?"

She shook her head. "They are trying to modify the process… they are afraid of how it might affect the little ones."

Fuji put his best encouraging face on. "I'm sure there'd be a way to—wait a minute… _what _did you _just now_ say?" His tone sounded a little somber than he meant it to be, eliciting more tears from their charge, the worried smile on her fair face widening sheepishly.

Sakai and Miller were frozen in shock, while irritation slowly invaded Fuji's features. He became uncharacteristically inquisitive.

"When did you find out about this?"

"… Yesterday morning."

"And you're just now telling us?"

Contrite.

"I am sorry…"

"Fuji, stop –"

"No."

His colleagues were taken aback by his demeanor.

"Nakamichi-dono, you may be my boss, but you're almost family to me, after all this time and all we've been through…"

Wonderment.

"And I know you're married and happy now, but I gotta know… did you want this to happen?"

Hesitance.

"… I… I thought it would happen much later…"

"Do they know what will happen to you if you go through this?"  
She was obviously becoming more troubled by his inquiry, the sudden grip Miller had on Fuji's shoulder forced him to hold his tongue.

"Know your place, Fuji," hissed his colleague.

"My **_place_** is to protect her!" Fuji roared. "How do you expect me to do my job, Miller?! I can't protect her from something like this!"

"Come on, Fuji, you're overreacting!" Miller shouted.

Sakai tried to calm things down. "Gentlemen, remember that she said no stress…"

Through some stroke of fortitude, Fuji held his peace for several moments before glancing at a tear-streaked Reiko. He bowed. "… I apologize, Nakamichi-dono. …I very well know I don't have a say in anything you decide." He stood up and turned to leave. "I didn't mean to sully my father's reputation by my boorish outburst. I just wanted to make sure that this is what you wanted, because…" He slowly stood erect, gaze kept at the ground. "I don't want to visit my father's grave again to tell him that something happened to you under my watch."

They watched Fuji walk away in silence, guards and charge looking at his retreating back and the shoulders that carried more than just the weight of his father's legacy.

* * *

She found him sitting in the solarium among the ferns and orchids, fiddling with something in his lap.

"Hello."

He started, but was quieted by her hand gesturing that he stay seated.

"I hope I was not interrupting something."

"No, not at all. It's just something I was playing with."

A closer look at the object made the corners of her mouth turn up.

"I'm really sorry about earlier… it wasn't my place to say anything."

She gazed down and reached for his shoulder to console him.

"How… how far along…"

"Seven weeks."

Silence.

"…Do you think I will make… a good mother… as good as mine was?"

He took her hand in his.

"Maybe even better."

Assurance.

"…I promise to be very careful…"

Sigh.

"…And stay out of trouble."

Plea.

"So please do not worry… and forgive me the risk I am taking."

Dissent.

"You're right about me worrying, but you're wrong about having to ask forgiveness for having a family again… You're making me an uncle, after all."

Relief.

"I mean, look at these cool booties I've knitted…"

"I am still very surprised that you know how to knit."

Pride.

"My little brothers and sisters had warm feet because of me… and, they were very well-looked after."

Promise.

"So as long as I'm around… I will make sure you and your family are safe. You're practically a little sister, after all."

Teary gratefulness.

"But… you will have to excuse me if I don't hold back in my sparring sessions with Mitsui-san."

Grinning, she shook her head.

"He shouldn't hurt… much."

* * *

Yoshi had thrown a private party for the year-old twins at the restaurant, and every one of Mitsui and Reiko's friends were invited. As laughter and conversation filled the restaurant, he busied himself with placing the desserts in the trays for the waiters to carry out. When one of the dessert plates fell, he paid it no mind, instead picking up the pace and hurrying the waiters to serve the hungry guests. After the fourth broken plate, Ayumi caught Yoshi leaning back against the counter with a pained look on his face. She hurried to his side.

"Yoshi-san, are you all right?"

He looked down at his hands. "I—I don't… I can't grip the plates for some reason…"

"Please rest a little, Yoshi-san, I will take care of dessert from here." She ushered him out of the kitchen and behind the wine bar, making sure that he was seated comfortably on a bar stool. "Just be one of the guests and mingle, okay?"

The proprietor suddenly grasped her forearm, aggrieved expression on his face. "Ayumi-chan… my hands…" They were trembling with fear.

"You're just tired, that's all," she said, taking his hands within her reassuring ones. "You've been up since five, and you've been milling around nonstop. I am going to make you some tea, okay? And you're going to have some of this delicious cake you made. I will be back with your cake and tea, and if I see you doing something close to work, you're in big trouble, mister!"

Seeing the old man's mood lighten, she walked back to the kitchen and did as she said, and somewhere along the way she bumped into Jackson. Gasping, she tugged at his sleeve and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the kitchen.

"Jackson-san, I need your help!" she whispered into his ear.

He couldn't hold himself from being on high alert. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"It's Yoshi-san! He said his hands have been giving him some trouble, and he couldn't hold onto the dessert plates… could you please look after him for me, just until I get all the desserts served to the guests?"

She didn't have to ask. "Of course, where is he?"

"At the bar. And, please try to cheer him up, he's pretty distraught."

"It's not a problem, let me know if you need any more help."

* * *

To everybody else walking around, they looked like a family having a fun picnic underneath the shade of the trees in the park. To Reiko, the simple event was one that gave her immeasurable mirth. Bouncing her daughter on her lap, she giggled happily at the high-pitched endearments she whispered to her, all the while Mitsui taking pictures of everybody on the picnic blanket, especially of Fuji taking a nap with his son. It was no laughing matter for the guards; the twins wore them out more than any sparring session or training day they had with either Mitsui or Reiko. When the daughter had finally quieted down and napped deeply, the grown-ups sans passed-out Fuji sat closer together.

"So what did they say about Yoshi-san's condition?"

"Carpal tunnel syndrome. His surgery went well, and he's recovering nicely. Ayumi-san has been the running workhorse behind the desserts, and the restaurant has never sold more of them now that she's there all the time."

"Her cakes are always delicious."

"Indeed."

All heads turned at Jackson's calm bass voice. Because Fuji was asleep, Sakai stepped up to the cajoling plate. "So, Jackson, care to tell us where you were late last night?"

Expectant faces.

"I… was out."

Grin.

"Doing what?"

"Saving a damsel in distress."

It was no surprise that he had to explain himself to his bug-eyed audience. None of them knew of his moonlighting arrangement with the old proprietor and his pastry chef.

"So you just fly by, grab her from her dates and drop her off at home?"

Hulking shoulders shrugged at them. "Yes."

Hushed approbation.

"Just like Superman," remarked Reiko softly. Mitsui just grinned and made slow circles against her hand in his. By this time, Fuji had roused and parked his rear right next to the older guard.

"What did I miss?" he blinked sleepily.

"Jackson's nightlife."

That woke Fuji up. "You mean Ayumi-san? Yeah, she's a keeper. Isn't she, Jackson?"

He was getting more embarrassed with each second. "I fail to see how any of that is your business, Fuji."

"Oh? Well, I think it _is_ my business when you ask me for the keys to my bike out of the blue just so you could get her out of a date at a nearby restaurant."

Jackson wasn't going to win this one.

* * *

"Nakamichi-dono, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, thank you for coming at such a late hour."

"Is everything all right?"

A nod.

"Better than I have ever dreamed it would be."

He smiled.

"Earlier, I… could not help but feel your hesitation to move forward in life, Mr. Jackson."

"What?"

Big and burly as he was, he felt small under her scrutiny, those eyes of blue that had been so fresh and innocent now an unbearable pair of azure flames, all-consuming and knowing.

Cold fire.

"Perhaps it is not my place to say, yet… it seems as if you feel guilty?"

"Sh-she's just a friend."

Smile.

"I do not recall asking what your relationship with her is."

He couldn't bring himself to explain, not in the scant seconds she gave him.

"It is all right to tell me that, Mr. Jackson, so long as it is true."

His lips remained pursed, the crease on his brow not going unnoticed. She smiled again and it took the jumpy edge off him somehow.

"Please do not let anything hold you back from happiness, Toshiro nii-san. Midori nee-san would not have wanted you to be unhappy, and neither do I."

He opened his mouth to say something. Nothing came out. She reached out and held his hand, the smile on her face never fading.

Coaxed.

"I feel as if… I'm betraying her."

Reiko shook her head. "Perhaps you are the only one questioning your loyalty? Moving on does not have to mean you must forget the people you loved."

"But… it wouldn't be fair to Ayumi-san… because I'm afraid I will always compare her to Midori."

Pause.

"Daddy told me before a piano recital once that people are able to love in different ways… and that was why I did not have to give up the violin even if I loved the sound of the piano."

That made him grin and nod.

"For a moment, I thought that maybe… maybe your service under my family is holding you back?"

The grin disappeared. "I beg to differ."

"I know that you choose to stay my guard because of your promise to my sister."

"It is as you say, Nakamichi-dono… but it's a little different now."

"And how is that?"

"I don't know how to explain it… it's not that I—I think… I think I'm a coward. Because being here is safe and predictable... and, things go awry when she's around. I know exactly what to do when faced with a dozen opponents in hand-to-hand combat, but when it comes to her… I'm completely defenseless."

"What are you trying to defend?"

He sucked in a deep breath. "My sanity… maybe my self-control."

She blinked and the guard felt her hand squeeze his.

"Does seeing her make you happy?"

For the first time in her life, Reiko saw the lead guard struggle within against something he seemed to fear. The air around him was suddenly so heavy.

"I—yes, but it doesn't make me _that_ happy… no. Not at all."

When did he ever speak with such contradiction?

"And I'm just helping Yoshi-san out… the restaurant just won't stand without a pastry chef of her caliber."

She nodded to show comprehension, though she knew he was the only one trying to convince himself. She glanced at the grandfather clock before patting his thick hand.

"Toshiro nii-san, you are your own man, intelligent and kind and understanding. I do not think you are a coward at all. However, I am convinced that your hesitation is partly rooted to the name under which you serve and the people who loved you in the past. If… if there is even just a fraction of a chance that you might be happy if you let yourself go, then by all means, do what you must to attain happiness."

Jackson felt something loosen inside him, a warmth that surged from his chest and spread to the blood in his veins. He was being given a blessing he wasn't asking for, and it bestowed the oddest sense of relief that made every breath easier to take. He watched the corners of her eyes crinkle from the smile she beamed at him.

"Be happy… this is your new directive, Mr. Jackson."

She got up from her seat with a little help from him, giving her a tug to ease her to her feet. The sigh that escaped from her lips told Jackson of just how much their little talk took from his charge.

"Thank you again for indulging me with this small chat."

The small smile on his face made the hope inside her blossom.

"The gratitude is all mine. You should get some sleep, Nakamichi-dono, It's getting quite late. I hear you're expected at the lab quite early tomorrow." With a pause, he leaned closer to whisper. "And you can tell Mitsui-san to stop eavesdropping behind that marble column… He ought to pay more attention to the lights and how they cast shadows."

Suppressing a giggle, she took the elbow he offered and both walked out of the vastness of the living room and into a refining lightness of the mind.

For the protected, a window to the past closed, and hope burgeoned.

For the protector, a door to the future opened with the promise of a new beginning.

* * *

That following week, her mother had scheduled four blind dates for her, each a day apart from the other. Ayumi nearly lost her wits over the bowl of pralines she was preparing while her mother chattered excitedly on the cell phone.

"I just know that you'll find at least one of these men agreeable, Ayumi-chan! They're all from good families, have high-paying jobs and graduated at the top of their class. I picked them myself!"

She cringed at the last statement.

"Mom, I'm really busy at the restaurant, I don't think I can go—"

"Ayumi-chan."

That calm, stern tone. Ayumi's every undoing.

Squeak.

"…Yes?"

"Dear, I just want you to be taken care of, being alone is dangerous! Do you remember what happened to you when you came home from that date in the city?"

How could she forget? She couldn't hide the bandage from her parents, and instead of blaming the date, they blamed the fact that she came home alone without anybody to watch over her. She chose not to tell them about Jackson, there was no need to pull his name into the chaos of her family life. It was enough that he's helping her get out of the dates. Pigs had to fly before she'd ask him the perilous task of walking her to her doorstep and haphazardly meet the parents. Jackson looked strong, but he couldn't be possibly _that_ strong to withstand the cosmic phenomenon that is her parents.

"Mom, that was because my date—"

"Yes, he's to blame as well… and I thought he'd be nice enough to walk you home… Mommy makes mistakes in picking, too, you know."

_You have **no** idea…_

"So your first date of the week will be tonight at seven, Gazebo's Restaurant. I suggest you wear that glittery gown to go with those new shoes I got you, okay? Mommy's gotta go, Book of the Month Club meeting, you know… Ayumi-chan, are you listening?"  
_I'm sorry, I was too busy contemplating my last will and testament—_

"Yes. Seven. Gazebo's Restaurant. Got it."

"Good! Good luck, dear!"

Click.

The ghost of Nanami's voice rang loudly in her head as she put her cell phone down, her earnest plea to move in with her and end the hell of blind dates. Why was it she let her parents bully her into these dates again?

The forgotten stove.

The water they left running in the kitchen.

Their age.

Blink.

Their health.

_Right…_

It was suddenly so noisy in the kitchen, as it would be, with all the chattering of the kitchen staff, the bang and clatter of pots and pans, and the sizzling of meats that made her head scream for solitude. She mechanically took her apron off, washed her hands, dried them and walked out of the backdoor, into the back parking lot where she held herself and fought the urge to cry.

Through the kitchen window, the old proprietor's watchful eyes saw the struggle within her and he frowned as he shifted his gaze down his hands. His recovering hands, not even hands with the strength of youth could make Ayumi feel better. Taking his time to grasp the telephone in his hand, he dialed a number he knew by heart with the other.

"Hello, it's me… listen, I need your help…"

* * *

He could only go on the information Yoshi had overheard in the kitchen. Glancing at his watch, he let out a rough sigh. The blind date must be really blind, he couldn't look to his watch to see how late he was. He hoped Ayumi wasn't holding her breath.

A timid man in a pin-stripe suit entered the restaurant with a small bouquet of flowers, the arrangement shaking slightly at the sight of Ayumi. Jackson couldn't blame him; one look at her caught his breath, and undoubtedly, the blind date's as well.

An awkward introduction followed, with the man hitting his head against a light fixture, then bumping into a waiter carrying drinks which spilled all over Ayumi's lap.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" he blubbered, taking a dinner napkin and dabbing at the moisture on her dress. "I apologize I was so late… God, this isn't how I wanted you to meet me..."

His discomfiture made Ayumi smile. "It's okay, it was an accident."

"I—I just wanted to make a really good impression, that's all…"

From his lookout, Jackson frowned at the fact that Ayumi was being too nice again.

When the entrées arrived, her date had gotten more comfortable and was acting more confident, even managing to make Ayumi laugh with some mundane joke. Or so Jackson imagined.

When desserts and coffee were finally consumed, the man reached for his wallet and left money for dinner as well as a generous tip, the waiter's face had gratitude written all over it.

She made a move to stand up and so did he, rather gracelessly, quickly losing the confidence he earned so slowly with each nod and smile Ayumi showered him.

"Thank you so much for dinner, Yaminobu-san," she said with a bow.  
"Ah, th-thank you so much for even coming out to meet me! I—I… thank you so much!"

He looked to be in his early to mid-twenties… thick jet black hair that matched his shiny dress shoes… around a hundred seventy centimeters.… a build of around one hundred and fifty pounds lean… right-handed… hands nervously rubbed against his sides, grabbing at the hem from time to time. Jackson lowered his binoculars and squinted at the swinging doors of the restaurant, watching the awkward man's movements.

"M-may I call you again?" he stuttered.

She paused to think. Taking the clumsiness aside, he was a very polite and nice man, slightly younger than she, but overall and so far a gentleman. Be that as it seemed, she knew she couldn't commit to anything further than a first meeting. She still had three other people meet, and if she was lucky, they'd be as nice as Yaminobu. If she was luckier, her mother would call off the other dates and just leave her to forget how wonderful and perfect her life was in the past.

"Um… Yaminobu-san… you are a very nice person, and I had a pleasant evening—"

"But?" The man was already dejected and expecting rejection.

"… I am still trying to forget a very… um… someone from the past. And because you've been so kind to me, I want you to know the real reason why I have to decline your request…"

Jackson felt uncomfortable watching her talk. He couldn't hear what was being said, but the way her eyes looked to the ground… and the furrow across her brow spoke of a pain much deeper than any physical wound could inflict.

It struck him that he knew nothing about his charge.

The man's head slowly hung low and his shoulders slumped when Ayumi finished speaking, and with another bow from her, she walked away to the intersection and disappeared among the many bodies that crossed the street.

Although there was no cause for him to intervene this evening, Jackson felt as though he had failed her. That even a strong, stalwart man could not protect her from the strange painful emotion that crossed her face.

It would bother him to sleeplessness that night.

* * *

He was sent on an errand to pick up food from the restaurant by Reiko, a special meal for the little ones made especially by Yoshi. As he approached the kitchen doors, he could hear laughter and giggling coming through the crack between the doors.

"He was so mean to her, I mean, _fire-breathing_ mean! He kept going on and on about, 'If it wasn't for the money I provide for you, you wouldn't be alive', and, 'How could you tarnish our family name by failing that exam?'. So I did what any respectable waiter could only do… I pretended to trip on his leg that was sticking out and by the time I got up from the floor, he was delectably covered in the special house sauce Yoshi-san makes, quite superbly, might I add."

Laughter rang out.

"Minus the meatballs."

Encore.

Yoshi shook his head as if to disapprove, but he condoned the mishap as an innocuous event. The harsh man really did deserve it; he disturbed all the other patrons' dinner, yelled at all the waitstaff, and talked down to his own flesh and blood as if she were a mere dog. Had his employee not done anything, he would've asked the man to leave.

In the corner stood Ayumi with an amused grin, her fingers white with flour, no doubt taking a break to listen to waitstaff heroics. It was as though no sad emotion ever graced her face, she was the picture of rainbows and daisies.

Yoshi was the first to recognize Jackson and acknowledged him with a nod.

"Takumi, are those lunches ready for Jackson to take home?"

His name made her head turn to the guard. The delivery boy looked at the to-go boxes and shook his head.

"Um, we're waiting on the desserts… Ayumi-san?"  
She smiled. "Give me ten more minutes and I'll have them out of the oven."

The wheels in Yoshi's mind turned. "Well then, you have ten minutes of nothing to do, Ayumi-chan. Why don't you help me behind the bar?"

"Let me wash your hands and I'll be right there," she chirped on her way to the sink.

When she turned the corner to the bar, it appeared that Jackson was also wrangled into cleaning the wine glasses. He waited for her to greet him, studying her closely.

"Hello, Jackson-san," she said, smiling at his thick fingers that didn't fit through the mouth of the glass he was holding. "I thought this was my job."  
He shrugged with a forced grin. "Yoshi-san had to make a phone call, I guess I'm the captive guest." She craned her neck to look at the reservation desk, and sure enough, he was chattering happily on the phone.

"Ten minutes with you can't be all that bad," she teased.

Jackson grinned genuinely. She was completely different from last night's sad face. For a few minutes, they worked in silence, she taking over the glass streak buffing, he placing the glasses upside on the rack overhead.

"How is your wrist, Ayumi-san?" he managed to say without stuttering. He didn't understand why it bothered him being too comfortable around her in silence.

"It's much better now, thanks for asking," she beamed down at the glass. "Who would've thought that putting it to work would make it heal faster…"

He nodded and said nothing, trying to pour his concentration on replacing the glasses on the rack as if he was defusing a time bomb. Or perhaps he just didn't know how to ask her what was said last night before she parted ways with her clumsy blind date?

"I'm glad things went well last night," he said in a very quiet tone. A side glance at his companion caught the blink of her eyes and the startled ripple that disturbed her happy features.

"Same here," she finally managed to say, buffing the nonexistent smear on the side of the wine glass she was holding.

"I hope there won't be more in a while," he prodded in a roundabout way.

A pause.

Resigned sigh.

"Um… actually… I've been scheduled to meet three more." Ayumi looked down, before giving him a small apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, Jackson-san. I know you take it upon yourself to watch over me." She looked so crestfallen. "My mother seems to have gotten desperate. You don't have to look after me, I know you have other work to do."

Jackson stilled. He watched as her tongue quickly peeked through her mouth to wet her dry lips, its pink hue reminding him of the pink slip of dismissal.

"The person I met last night, Yaminobu-san, was a nice person and all, but I have a feeling he won't be calling again." She flashed a weak grin. "Maybe the rest will be just as nice."

He was unconvinced and more unwilling to rely on hope that she wouldn't get hurt again if left to fend for herself.

"So what were the magic words of deterrence?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

She lifted her eyes to the lake, taking her time to find the right words to say. Her fairy godfather expected and deserved no less than the direct truth. "I told him that I am trying to forget someone in my past… that as long as the ache remains within me with each thought of him, I wouldn't be able to consider being with someone else… because it would be unfair for anyone to be with me, thinking that I have them in my heart, when all the while I am looking back at how colorful life was with that person, and how bleak it is now without him."

Whatever was shredding her heart was picking at the surface of his, because she sounded exactly how he felt about Midori. He didn't know how much in common he shared with the pastry chef, and he suddenly wished he didn't ask. The tear that escaped her eye lanced an old emotion in his chest, and her quick reaction to wipe it away and smile through it all softened his eyes with sympathy. He reached for his handkerchief and handed it to her, meeting her surprise with a wordless nod. Footsteps from the reservation desk got closer and closer, and Yoshi relieved Jackson of his part-time bartending, unaware of the stark revelation between the two.

* * *

Mitsui sat in the silence of the kitchen, with a shot of whiskey at hand instead of coffee in the morning. He had been watching the lead guard and his wife through the door blinds conversing quietly by the edge of the lawn since six, and he couldn't help the strings of jealousy from being plucked within him. They hadn't stopped talking since, and because their voices were so hushed and discreet, he had no idea of what was going on. Thank God the twins were still asleep. It's not like Jackson was making advances at Reiko, in fact he kept a three-foot distance between them. But he was once told by his wife that Jackson was enamored with her sister Midori, and he had no cause for concern before. That was, until he saw a picture of Midori.

Carbon-copy sisters.

Ever since then, he surprised himself at just how obsessive and possessive he had become of his beautiful wife.

The dog found him and barked to be let out. The corners of his mouth turned up at the opportunity to open the back door and finally go outside to investigate.

By the time he was within earshot, Reiko and her guard had concluded their conversation and Jackson sincerely apologized to him for taking so much of Reiko's time. Mitsui noticed the tired lines under the strong guard's eyes, and he calmed himself the moment Reiko's hand clasped his.

Half an hour later in the quiet of their bedroom, he would find out just how stupid and insecure he was acting.

* * *

The second blind date had a goatee and wore his sunglasses the entire time during dinner. He was very much into hip-hop fashion, sporting a diamond chain necklace and an oversized Rolex on his wrist. She was glad that he didn't wear earrings to go with his flashy outfit, but any redeeming hope she had was snuffed the moment he smiled at her. His upper teeth had a white gold grill across them.

Negative five hundred brownie points.

So much for mother's hand-picked cream-of-the-crop.

He kept insisting they go to a club that he was convinced she would love, and he had no ears for her polite refusal. The moment his hand grabbed her wrist was when Jackson appeared into view, startling the rapper wanna-be with his vise-like grip. By the time her blind date regained consciousness, Ayumi was nowhere to be found, and a very angry maître D made sure he paid for their expensive dinner as well as the damages incurred.

* * *

Cradling the cup of latté in her hands, Ayumi thanked Jackson once more for the drink. Knowing how often her rescuer liked to drink tea, she was surprised that he chose to give her a stronger source of caffeine. He joined her on the bench overlooking the local skating rink, watching the few people on the ice practice figure skating routines. Ayumi gave some thought to why the guard picked this venue as their temporary place of refuge, and she came to the conclusion that it was the least likely place for her blind date to find her should he be in 'date rage', and that it was quiet enough to hear the person next to you speak. Luckily, the practice music coming from the speakers was Beethoven's very soothing Moonlight Sonata. Whether Jackson knew this or not, it didn't matter to her. She knew she would be safe.

After watching a pair of figure skaters successfully skate synchronous triple axles, Ayumi broke the comfortable silence between them.

"I think I'll go be a nun," she mused, her eyes following the skaters making figure eights.

Jackson let out a snorted laugh. "Where did that come from?"  
Her sigh blew a few wisps of hair out of her face. "Well… if I become a nun, my mother can't set me up on blind dates anymore… she'll have to fight the Pope. Then you'll have your evenings all to yourself again, and I'll finally be able to play videogames in peace."

Surprise.

"You play videogames?"

Laugh.

"Only the girly ones."

"Which ones?"

"The ones that involve you dancing, playing the guitar and tennis." She rubbed a finger against the shell of her ear. "Now if they could only make one that forces you to do sit-ups, I can get those abs of steel I've been wanting for Christmas."

He was quite amused. Apparently, Fuji and Miller weren't the only ones playing videogames.

"I'm sure they can provide videogame consoles in that room of the convent with your name on it."

He heard her laugh, and it was the first real laugh he's heard from her all week.

Sip.

"What about Yoshi and your catering business? Stomachs all over Kanagawa will miss you."  
Another sigh.

"You don't suppose you know of an abbey where the nuns need fattening, do you?"  
Grin.

"Not really… then again, I'm not very familiar with nuns or abbeys."

She shrugged. "I've come to love working with Yoshi-san. He reminds me of my Grandfather. Oh! But don't tell him that, I think he would much rather prefer to be referred to as an uncle."

Chuckle.

"My lips are sealed."

He watched the corners of her eyes crinkle with the wide smile she gave him, her head turning to look at the skaters slide across the ice near their bench. As he looked down at the slender fingers that wrapped around her warm cup, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat.

"You know, all this time I've been shadowing you, I still don't know who the person I'm guarding really is."

Her eyes blinked to widen. Turning to him, she met his steady gaze before he turned to look away.

"I apologize for being so forward… I guess it's just a necessity in doing my job."

She asked if he could explain how it was he did his job.

"Well, for starters, I have to know what the person does for a living, who that person associates with, the places she goes to and when she goes. It gives me insight on what the person sees throughout the course of the day, and it helps me to plan for any possible threats or obstacles."

Ayumi made an impressed face. Pausing to look up, she said, "I'm really hoping not to inconvenience you anymore with these silly dates, but I'm guessing you require that kind of information from me?"  
He grinned and nodded.

She copied his lax position on the bench. "Okay then… so you already know I'm some sort of pastry chef… and that I work at Yoshi-san's from time to time. Let's see… I often cater luncheons for university functions, and after those I often stop by the bakery across the street to say hello to the baker and his wife."

Jackson grinned at the memory. He never thought anybody could ask him so many questions in one minute.

"On my spare time, I go for long walks in Shibuya… there's a small café I frequent where I read the newspaper… and, hn… that's about it, really. My life is quite boring. And I like it that way."

The guard took a moment before replying. On the ice, another synchronous triple axle.

"I know it's none of my business, but… why do you keep going on these blind dates if you hate them so much?"  
Shrug.

"To appease the parentals. Sooner or later they're going to have to accept the fact that maybe a life of quiet is what I want… they think that finding a man to marry me will solve all my problems."

"Do you have any problems?"

She sighed. "No… no, not really." She sounded so sure to herself, but Jackson wasn't buying it. "It's either suffer a little with the blind dates, or risk another heart attack with Mom or nervous breakdown with Dad."

_Bingo._

Jackson understood the importance of preserving family. He had been trying to preserve one since the day he was employed. But something was a little irritating to him about her choice of complacency. Like an itch he wanted to scratch in the corner of his mind, he wanted to know more.

"… Do you think there's a chance you might find someone they'd approve of, you know, so they can stop worrying?"  
She smiled dejectedly at him, embarrassed and surprised that he was thinking along the same lines she was before. Maybe even now. "The thought has crossed my mind, but lately… well, as Yoshi-san would put it, the pickings are just _so _slim."

Jackson chuckled as he nodded. "I guess this Yaminobu-san's heart will be irreparably broken."

The male skater lifted his partner in the air and held her up against her taut abdomen, like something a sculptor would forever immortalize into art.

"I guess he knows how I feel… but I hope I get over it soon. I know there's a life of happiness out there for me, and for the most part, I'm living it right now," she said, a small grin forming at the corners of her mouth before lifting her cup of coffee at Jackson, "one sip at a time."

A good while passed between them in silence, the sound of skates grinding against the ice punctuated the crescendo of piano notes that boomed throughout the arena.

"He must've been a remarkable man to have this much hold on you."

She turned to look at him with these questioning eyes of alarm. Perhaps it was a bit too much prodding. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business. I won't say—"

"He was a simple man with a quiet strength in him," she interrupted, her eyes softened and back on the pair of figure skaters who flitted across the rink. "He was the one who encouraged me to do my catering business after taking a bite of a chocolate cake I made… I wasn't even interested at him at first… He was just someone who frequented the small restaurant I part-timed in. My folks met and liked him… Nanami even called him 'uncle' when the thought wasn't even in our heads…"

Why did it become so hard for him to breathe and listen to her at the same time?

"He always seemed to be there for me, whenever I needed help or I was in a bind. One time, I forgot my umbrella, and he happened to be passing by the restaurant. He shared his umbrella with me and walked me home. It was a big enough umbrella to shield two people from the rain, but he pretty much let me have it because he didn't want me to get wet." Ayumi laughed. "Sounds like a Police song, huh?"  
Jackson just nodded, half of him wanting for her to continue, the other wishing he didn't have a heart.

"I didn't realize I loved him until—"

Her abrupt pause made the guard turn his attention to her. Her gaze was still on the rink, but she was miles and years away from him.

"It was snowing when I got the phone call from him. He said to meet me at some address… it turned out to be a hospital. He was smiling at from his hospital bed, all these IV lines and plastic drip bags around him. He told me that he was really happy that I came to see him, and when I asked him why he was in the hospital, he told me had Hodgkin's lymphoma. At the time, I didn't know what that was, and he told me that he was going to be okay, said not to worry because he'll be fine. I stayed with him the whole night, talking about anything and everything that came to mind. When visiting hours were over, I didn't want to leave… because I had a really bad feeling something bad would happen if I left. I came to see him early the next morning, and so many doctors were around his bed. When I could finally get to talk to him, he was so weak that it was difficult for him to even speak. He reached for my hand and told me that if it hadn't been for me, he wouldn't have known how to love, and he told me how much he loved me…"

On the ice, the male skater swung his partner into a flawless triple axle in time to the music piece.

"I didn't know… that all that time he spent with me, the long walks and the laughter we shared together… all of that was borrowed time. He told me he was sorry for not telling me that he was sick, but he didn't want to die without telling me how fun I was to be with, that everything I touched turned into gold, and that I was like a superhero in his eyes."

Jackson wasn't even aware that he was holding his breath until she moved to wipe her tears away. Reflexively he reached into his pockets and was completely disappointed at himself for not having a handkerchief at hand.

"At his funeral, none of his family members came. I found out through his lawyer that he had no other living family members… I remember crying so hard when I thought of how truly alone he was, and I was too late to realize just how much he meant to me." Her tears poured like a stream at this point. "I guess what makes me really sad… is that despite being told how happy he was to be with me, he couldn't tell me that he was alone all that time, that he was sick, that he didn't have much time left... And it's not like I could've done anything to stop him from dying, but… I felt as if he didn't trust me enough to burden me with his problems."

Ayumi was now leaning her elbows against her lap, slouched over with her hair spilling over her shoulders, her coffee completely forgotten. Jackson was bold enough to have prodded this far, so he didn't hold himself back in getting up from his seat to crouch down in front of her, taking his thick fingers and wiping the tears from her flushed cheeks. The gesture made her shut her eyes and she hung her head even lower.

"I know it's really selfish, Jackson-san… but I really wanted to be there for him, not just for the happy times… I wanted to be the one to take care of him, to be the first one he saw in the morning and the last person he saw at night… Right before he died, I was holding his hand, and he apologized again for making me sad, and he told me that I was the strongest person he knew, and that he… that he loved me beyond words… that somewhere, someone out there was going to be the luckiest man in the world because I would love him."

The guard knelt on one knee and pushed her shoulders up enough so that her head was at level with his. He saw with a melancholic fascination all the sadness she'd been hiding in that smiling mask of hers, and the guilt that weighed her down that she couldn't sit up. Jackson brought his sleeved arm to wipe at her cheeks again, then pulled her into his embrace. Stupid him for letting her get this far, stupid him for not knowing how to make her stop crying.

"I think he had it all wrong, Jackson-san," she whispered hoarsely, "he was the one who was truly strong, and I was a weak nothing without his encouragement. All I touch either ends in disaster or makes people diabetic."

He let himself grin through his frown.

"And I'm not a superhero. Not even close. If I was, I'd fly counterclockwise against the earth's rotational direction and turn back the clock, and tell him how I felt about him… okay, so I watched way too many Superman movies growing up, but… you know what I mean."

She was doing it again, trying to lighten the mood when she was at her lowest. She quieted down, finally noticing that she was being gently rocked back and forth, lulling her into a calm she was foreign to.

"Would… would it be all right for me to hold you like this for a while?" he asked, his voice so deep it vibrated against throughout her.

She sniffed. "I should be the one asking you that, Jackson-san." She could barely reach her hand to her face to swipe at her eyes, he was so big.

A pause.

"So I'll take that as a yes?"  
She nodded, the warmth of her breath against his neck making him sigh guiltily.

An eternity.

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you like this in public… but… you don't know how grateful I am that you're here."

He didn't know how long he held her in his arms, but upon hearing that, he didn't feel so guilty anymore.

* * *

Mitsui thought he was on the verge of collapse by the time they reached the bakery in a record time run. He was resting his hands on his knees and bent over, trying to catch his breath he left two miles ago. The baker was quite happy to see them, and the wife was even happier to see three handsome young men crowded by the pastry case. They were introduced to her, and a tornado of questions flew from her mouth as her husband rolled his eyes and tended to the kolaches that were in the oven.

She went upstairs and came down with towels and fresh shirts for them with the logo of the bakery imprinted on them. "We had a morning bonanza for the students last week, and these were door prizes," she chimed as she served them tea and coffee. The kolaches were so good after a morning run.

"Jackson-san, do you know where Ayumi-san has been?" the old man asked. "She said she'd be here today, but when I called her number, all I got was her voicemail."

The men looked at Jackson. The lead guard was deathly calm, thinking of the worst and hoping for her safety. "Did she mention where she was the last time you spoke with her?"

The baker looked down at his tea cup. "Let's see… I recall her saying that she'll be visiting her niece after she takes care of a few things at home. I'm just a little worried, she always calls when she can't make it here."  
"Please excuse me for a moment," Jackson said abruptly, pushing away from the table and through the front door.

"I wonder what's going on," Mitsui mused. After swallowing a bite of his kolache, he took his cell phone and called his wife. "Hello, Reiko? We're at the bakery, but listen, I'd like you to make a few phone calls, if you don't mind…"

* * *

Edge.

"This is Jackson."

"Hello, this is Ueno Nanami."

"Ueno-san, is everything okay with Ayumi-san?"

Pause.

"Yes, she's fine… it's just… she's been worried sick about Grandpa… he had a heat stroke while working outside the garden. He's home from the hospital now, but she's… I don't know… she's really worrying me."

* * *

Nanami opened the front door to let Jackson in, the house smelling of something freshly baked, with a hint of something fried on a skillet. As they walked through the living room, books were on the floor, flipped to pages filled with flowers and plants.

"I've been trying to help her watch Grandpa while she deals with Grandma… I'm sorry the house is such a mess."

It wasn't really a mess. He'd seen books all over the floor before with the twins babbling over the pictures and Mitsui pointing to them, but this household had no toddlers as an excuse. They heard the sound of pots breaking outside, and they hurried out the backdoor.

"Grandma!" Nanami cried, rushing to the elderly lady with blood on her hands. Crouching down, she helped her to her feet. "Grandma, what happened?"  
"I just wanted to water the plants, but Ayumi-chan wouldn't let me, she said that she'd do it herself! The orchids can't wait, Nanami-chan, they'll wither!"

Jackson let Reiko's friend reason with her grandmother and walked past them to look for Ayumi. At first she was nowhere to be found, but when the guard heard a whimper, he found her hidden and crouched down by a row of potted rosebushes in full bloom, her arms holding her knees against her chest. He let his footsteps strike the wooden walkway deliberately, and he was concerned with the lack of reaction to them.

"Hey," he cooed, crouching down and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Have you seen a cat around here?"

Slowly lifting her head, she blinked the tears from her tired eyes and finally looked at Jackson. She finally showed astonishment. "Jackson-san! What are you doing here?" He was already wiping her cheeks with the square cloth produced from his pocket.

"Ueno-san told me that she heard a mewling sound in the garden, and I thought maybe there was a lost cat in the garden." Her brown eyes widened with confusion. "And lo and behold, there is!" his bass voice resonated. He moved his hand to her head, stroking and cradling it gently.

"I'm sorry," she bleated. "This is the second time you've seen me cry, and it's so embarrassing," she moped, burying her face against her knees once more.

"The fourth time."

"What?"

She watched him grin, the handkerchief brushing her face once more. "The first time was the almond extract, which I am still extremely sorry for… the second was after that date I flushed down the toilet."

She paused to think, then sniffled a smile. "I crouch corrected… How did you know my world was falling apart today?"

He shrugged. "You know, gut feeling," he said, helping her up to her feet. "We superheroes have that hard-wired into us." He gave her some time to recollect herself as she looked at the wooden deck. Moments passed by.

"… Okay… all right. I'm ready for another onslaught." She blinked, then flashed him a cheerful face. "My game face is on, let's go."

She led the way into the house, prevented her mother from trying to put meat on a skillet that was full of burning oil, and managed to pick up the books on the floor while she was at it. From the master bedroom, her father was yelling for his wife to stop fussing, and Ayumi told her niece to calm Grandpa down and give him some water. All the time Jackson was looking on at the ladies tending to the elderly man, a pair of admiring eyes crinkled happily at him.

* * *

The third date was quite amusing, he was a percussionist for the Philharmonic orchestra, and he made her laugh with his jokes. This time the venue chosen for them was a Brazilian restaurant that served delicious fire-roasted meat on long steel skewers. The connoisseur in Ayumi was delighted in the cornucopia of flavors that engulfed her tongue with every bite.

"What's so amusing?" he asked before sipping from his wine glass.

She shook her head. "The herbs they use are quite flavorful, it's really good."

"Oh good, I'm glad… At first I was worried that they'd make us bite off the meat from the skewers with them holding it."

From his seat in the coffeehouse across the street, Jackson had to consciously loosen his grip on his coffee cup at the sight of Ayumi laughing. It was so sincere, unlike all the other times she was with other dates he watched over, as if she was relaxed and comfortable.

_Like when she's with me. _

Why was he reacting like this? Shouldn't he be happy for her?

He was glad that they were seated by the windows, it was easy to watch what was going on. He scrutinized every observable detail of the man seated before Ayumi. He was a few inches shorter than the guard, not as muscular, with slender fingers that were calloused, no doubt from holding mallets. He spoke with his hands, gestured throughout their conversations and was very animated with his facial expressions. A sigh escaped his throat when he looked at his watch. Dinner was taking thirty minutes longer tonight and counting. The guard leaned against his propped hand as he watched some more, seeing Ayumi bend down in her seat to pick something up from the floor.

When the man finally paid for the bill, Ayumi followed him outside the restaurant where they spent a few minutes talking some more. There was a point when the man raised his hand to rub against the back of his head, looking embarrassed for a bit. Jackson surmised the man asked for a second meeting. His eyes roved to Ayumi, her head angled to look down at the sidewalk and a small smile on her face. She seemed to be thinking about something, taking a long pause before opening her mouth to speak. And when she did, the man reacted with nods and his hands digging into his pockets. She ended with a bright smile, giving her date a very polite bow, and she turned to cross the street toward the coffeehouse where Jackson was.

Upon entering the establishment, he stood to greet her, but was taken aback by the quick glance she gave him as she walked hurriedly to the ladies' room. Something wasn't right.

He waited outside, listening by the door for clues. When the sounds of coughing became apparent, he broke through the door. "Ayumi-san!"

After another fit of coughing, Jackson heard the sound of a flushing toilet, and a second later Ayumi emerged from the stall she was in with a hand covering her mouth.

"Ayumi-san, are you all right?"

When she nodded, he took the silk chiffon scarf from her neck and turned on the faucet. Slightly wetting it with warm water, he wiped her mouth tentatively and she took the garment from him and did the rest of the job. By then her eyes came out of the watery haze that threatened a downpour of teardrops. She was determined not to let one drop fall.

"I wish you weren't so watchful and caring, Jackson-san," she thought out loud, now looking down at her wet scarf in hand. "You wouldn't have to see or smell the vomit from me."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about that or this scarf. I'll get you another one." Taking a few tissues from the tissue box by the sink, he wiped the skin over her jaw bone. "So what happened?"  
Ayumi didn't know how to describe the perversion she saw in that brief moment she bent over to pick up the soup spoon she had knocked over. She knew that she would just want to hurl all over again and hide in the smallest, inconspicuous crack or crevice she could find. She's only been kissed once, and though cognizant of the workings of the sexual act, she had never seen a male's sexual organ before in her life.

That is, until she picked up the soup spoon.

If it had been an accident and her date just left his fly open, that was one thing. Seeing something stiff and erect emerging from it was another. And it left her totally disgusted.

"I feel dirty, _felt_ dirty the moment I realized why he was trying so hard to make me happy… apparently, _he_ was very happy at making me happy…"

Jackson simply nodded and remained quiet as he led her out of the coffeehouse, paid for his coffee and a bottled water, and opened the car door for her once they were outside. The whole time, he wanted to punch something. Before getting in the driver seat, he fished for his phone and called Sakai.

* * *

Mitsui let out a yawn as he walked down the hallway to check on his children who were still sleeping soundly at that early hour. Going back to the bedroom, he placed a soft kiss on Reiko's temple and grinned at the mumble she made. It would be another hour before she rose from bed.

Marital bliss made Mitsui a much more responsible man, not that he wasn't already. He called the engineering firm he worked for and asked his secretary if he still had his job, and nearly dropped the phone when she asked him why he was asking her, since everybody at the office knows that he was on leave.

A _very_ long leave.

A few emails and several faxes later, Mitsui resumed working for Pinnacle once more, but this time working from the house. Shortly after the twins' first birthday, he found out that Reiko's bodyguards had something to do with his employment status and the laxity of the occupational constraints his company had over him. Sakai then told him that Pinnacle was owned by the Nakamichi Corporation. He was basically told that he could never get fired.

Not wanting to be a slouch, he worked on projects his secretary sends him, and his boss was nothing short of pleased with his work. When Reiko told him he didn't have to work anymore, he laughed at her before tickling her to the ground.

"You already rule my heart. Let me at least have some dignity and do my share of the wagon-pulling. Daddy is capable of making _some_ money to put food on the table," he said.

She kissed him and let him do as he pleased.

Placing the coffee in the coffee filter, he turned the coffeemaker on and let the dog out the back door. He was about to go upstairs to take a shower when a blinking light from the flat screen in the foyer caught his eye. Turning it on, he read a message from Fuji that nearly made him laugh out loud.

_Rendezvous at the meeting ground (servants' quarters) at 1500 hours for surveillance training._

_Come alone._

_Dress in black._

_Be punctual._

_Tardiness will require a beating as disciplinary measure._

_Fuji_

Fuji still wasn't over Reiko having a hard labor because Mitsui got her pregnant. Going up the stairs as quietly as possible, he took a shower and dressed quickly before returning to the kitchen. He had a dog to walk, some blueprints to work on, a wife and kids to take to the Yoshi's restaurant for lunch, and Fuji to deal with.

It wasn't a packed day, but he knew Fuji was going to give him a beating whether he came early or late, he'd find some reason to spar him breathless whether he liked it or not.

Whoever said that whatever doesn't kill one makes one stronger had no idea what it was like to be in the shooting guard's shoes.

* * *

Ayako and Miyagi haphazardly ran into Akagi and Nanami at an electronics store. They ended up at the teahouse around the corner to chat and catch up with what's going on in their lives. After listening to Ayako and Miyagi talk happily about their recent anniversary, it was Nanami's turn to speak.

"Well, nothing much is going on with me, except my poor Aunt Ayumi's oppression."

"What?" they asked in unison.

"Well this is news to me," remarked Akagi, bringing his teacup to his lips. His fiancée sighed in frustration.

"Grandma and Grandpa are driving her nuts! Thank God I was there when Grandpa had a heat stroke. Grandma's already bullying Ayumi-chan with all these blind dates she sets her up with, and it doesn't help that Grandpa's not feeling well. Good thing Jackson-san was there the other day and helped calm her down."

The men looked at each other. "Really? Jackson-san?"

"Yes, and if it wasn't for him, I don't know how I would've gotten Ayumi-chan back into the house."

"How did he even know to go to your house at that time?"

"I asked for Reiko-chan to give me his number. I didn't know who else to call, and Ayumi-chan doesn't have too many friends… and she mentioned that he saved her once from a really bad date. I figured he could do it again."

Miyagi raised his brows at Akagi, who knew exactly what he was thinking. In all the times they've seen the guard, Reiko was not more than a few feet away, and if she was, at least two guards were always with her. It's understandable that having Mitsui around was like gaining another bodyguard, and there had been more than one occasion where the shooting guard had to leave a friendly game of basketball for his 'training exercises' at the laboratory grounds. As to what kind of training, they had no clue. They could only guess that he was being taught their craft.

Miyagi leaned his forearm against the table and looked down into his teacup. "I am willing to bet… that Reiko-san's bodyguard has something for your aunt, Nanami-chan."

Ayako lit up and gasped. "You think so?" Her husband shrugged.

"It's only a guess."

"And a good one," added Akagi. "I'm with you on this one, Miyagi."

Nanami looked past their shoulders in a thoughtful daze. "Come to think of it… he _did_ put new locks on my apartment door that one time he took Ayumi-chan there after a bad blind date…"

"What's up with Ayumi-san and blind dates?"

She snorted her disdain. "Ask Grandma. Anyway, if Jackson-san really likes my aunt, and if she likes him back, then this blind date madness will come to a halt and she'll have her life back…" A smile slowly blossomed across her face. "She'll have her life back…"

Both teammates had a feeling that whatever was making her smile will have them involved in schemes they don't want to participate in. Ayako, on the other hand, was itching to jump in.

* * *

Rolling stop.

"Okay, here we are."

Handbrake.

"Our target will be walking out of that building any minute now."

Silence.

Mitsui raised his gaze to the sign on the side of the building.

_The Center for the Performing Arts. _

"Take a look at who we're looking for."

Folder.

Opening the file, Mitsui heard Fuji recite verbatim what was printed on the sheet of paper, a picture of a man dressed in a suit and tie at the top corner of the page.

"Kurogawa Isamu, age thirty-one, one hundred eighty centimeters in height. Percussionist for the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra. Graduate of Tokyo University with a masters in music and literature. A fan of baseball and Formula One racing. Arrested for public nudity and intoxication in 2004."

Mitsui was confused. "We're going after a flasher?"

Fuji's line of sight never left the entrance of the building. "That 'flasher' is the same man who took out Yoshi-san's pastry chef last night on a blind date."

"Oh shit... did he do anything to her?"

"Nothing physical, but this guy had his fly open and crown jewels for her to see… let's just say it shocked the food out of her."

The shooting guard shook his head in disbelief at the man's image on the paper. "What a sick fuck… she's too good for that."

"Yeah, tell me about it. Listen, you're mainly here to learn how to survey your surroundings and pick up on possible escape routes. This man does not have a car, so he can either run left towards the train station, right towards the shopping district, or straight across the street. Note that not too many cars are parked around the building, and pedestrians are few at this time of night. Regardless, we cannot let this man go to a crowded place where we might lose sight of him."

"What exactly are we going to do to him, Fuji-san?"  
His companion squinted at the figure that emerged from the front doors of the concert hall. "There is no _we_ in the doing, Mitsui-san. It's just gonna be me. You're the guy calling for back-up should anything go wrong, which I highly doubt." Fuji unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Wait a minute! What if—"

"Don't worry, Mitsui-san," he said with puckish grin. "I won't involve you in anything that will make Nakamichi-dono unhappy. Just watch and learn." With a wink that unnerved the shooting guard, Fuji set out to hunt down his prey.

Mitsui watched with bated breath as Fuji approached the man on the picture, and out of nowhere their target swung at Fuji with his bag, sticks and mallets flying at him. Mitsui was nothing short of awed at the swiftness of Fuji's movements, taking the man down with one blow to the gut and crushed him to the ground with his knee. He could only guess what he was saying to the man, and within a few seconds, Fuji was back in the car putting his safety belt on.

"All right," he said with a huff, keying the engine to life. "Coffee?"

* * *

Unknown number.

Pause.

"This is Jackson."

"Ah, yes, you sound exactly like him. Jackson-san?"

"Yes, this is he speaking. May I ask who is calling?"

Chuckle.

"I would like to request a meeting with you. My name is Kyoko and I have something very important to tell you."

Suspicious.

"You can't tell me on the phone?"  
"My my, you need more patience, young man."

Recognition.

"Perhaps I do. Where would you like to meet?"

* * *

"Sweetheart, I've been asked by Fuji-san to tag along for a surveillance exercise."

Mitsui's hand stopped the movement of his toothbrush against his teeth at the sight of the slight pout on his wife's lips.

"Aw, please don't be sad…"

He quickly finished brushing his teeth and approached her on the bed. "I've been learning so much from Fuji lately." She took his hand in hers and caressed it. If she wanted him to stay, he would relent. One night of tutelage wasn't worth the frown on Reiko's face.

"I know that it is important to you," she said, her other hand reaching out to his face. "When will you be back?"

"I was told it wouldn't last more than three hours, but if that's too long—"

She kissed him speechless, a tactic she craftily used to make decisions he hesitated on. He was always eager to reciprocate.

"Okay," he said breathlessly, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other over her shoulders, "it's really not that important…" He covered her lips with his and leaned her back onto the bed. Before they lost themselves in each other, Reiko pushed away to resurface for air.

"Hisashi… why do you like shadowing Fuji?"

He loved the feel of her silky locks through his fingers. "Because I want to learn more on how to protect you and the children better."

She smiled and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "You are so wonderful."

He chuckled. "I'm trying, sweetheart. I'm trying."

"Perhaps when you get back home, you can do some more trying with me." And then into his ear, a whisper. "Though I am sure that you will do more succeeding than trying."

Groaning, he rolled over so that he was on top of her. "Love, if you don't stop, you might get pregnant again."

She tried to laugh as quietly as possible as he tickled and ravaged her neck with his tongue. The children were already asleep.

* * *

Irritation.

"You're late."

Shrug.

"I'm sorry, the missus got me distracted."

Fuji took a long, hard look at Mitsui. "If she gets pregnant again without Yoshikawa-san's clearance, I'm going to mop the floor with your face."

Placating.

"Okay okay, I got it!"

* * *

"Plain clothes, check. No makeup, check. Comfy shoes, check. Cell phone, check. Money, check. Game face on, check."

Ayumi ignored the passersby who heard her enumerating her mental list out loud. Two more blocks and she'll be at the restaurant where the fourth date asked her to meet. Her footsteps became wearier with each step that trudged forward. So far, the nicest date she's met this whole week was a klutz who looks barely over the drinking age. No gangster-rapper wanna-bes or perverts for her. She just wished that time would go a lot faster so she can be over and done with this.

It was to be Japanese cuisine for dinner, and she was surprised the date chose it. In the past, it had always been something foreign and fancy.

When she arrived at the reservation desk, the hostess seated her at a table by the far corner of the restaurant, quiet and almost secluded from the rest of the tables. After giving her drink order, she began to worry that it was almost too secluded. She rose from her seat and was about to call the hostess back when she caught sight of a silhouette of a man dressed in a suit behind the glazed glass window separating the entrance from the dining area. Pouting, she sat back down with a sigh and prayed for the evening to the uneventful. She changed to the seat facing the street, tired of how facing the wall mirrored the way she looked at how her parents meddled with her love life. She looked down at her watch. Only five minutes have passed.

"Hello, Ayumi-san."

She looked up to see Jackson standing with the hostess two tables down. Her eyes widened with the smile on her face. "Hello, Jackson-san! What are you doing here?"  
"Sakai and I are supposed to talk about some upgrades we need to make on our vehicles. I figured, I might as well kill two birds with one stone." He glanced at his watch. "Where's your date?"

"I'm guessing he's on his way," she said, the brightness on her face waning a little. "Wait, who's the other bird?"

Grinning, he replied, "Your date."

She laughed.

The hostess asked him what he would like to drink, and after giving his order, he sat in a seat facing Ayumi. Seeing her two tables away was a lot closer than across-the-street away, and it afforded him much into what she was thinking. Barely or no make-up at all… the nervous tap of her right pinky against the table… hair that was long and straight and unstyled, the bottom lip she bit whenever she was apprehensive.

Jackson was jolted out of his scrutiny when his cell phone rang. Answering it, he looked down at his watch. "Is everything all right?... Why?... Oh. That's fine then, some other time… See you later."

Ayumi tried not to pay attention to his conversation, instead traced the lines of the orchid flowers on the table with her eyes.

"It seems that Sakai has a previous engagement," he said to her when the waiter came by with his tea.

"Oh…" she looked away, and the guard saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes. "I guess you'll be leaving soon then." He took a moment to guess what her face was telling him.

… _Please don't leave… _

"How about I stay until your date arrives?" he offered, grinning slowly at her face that brightened at his words.

"… You wouldn't mind?"

He shook his head.

"Thanks so much!"

After ten minutes passed, she asked if Jackson would share an appetizer with her, and when it came to her table, she walked over to his and handed him more than half of it. After twenty minutes, she asked the waiter if she could get a chicken katsudon, and Jackson threw in his order as well. When their meals arrived ten minutes later, Jackson moved one table closer to Ayumi's. Plunged into a detailed discussion on which James Bond actor was the best, they lost track of time, and another thirty minutes later, Jackson decided that her date wouldn't show up and sat in the seat in front of her. By then they were given desserts on the house, and after discussing which Bond girl was the most beautiful, nearly two hours have passed. He decided to change the topic.

"I'm sorry your date didn't show, Ayumi-san."

She quickly put down her drink. "Are you kidding me? I think it's great that he didn't show! It just means that I can refuse any requests for another one in the future."

"How so?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to date anyone who was late. I'd just say he missed the chance." She watched him smile down at his dessert. "Jackson-san, thank you so much for keeping me company. This is the best blind date I've ever been on. Well, I guess it's not really blind… or a date…" she trailed off and smirked.

The guard paused to look at her face, her eyes looking down at her dessert, cheeks that were colored with either happiness or relief, and lips that seemed rosier than when he first saw her. It made him smile.

"It's my pleasure, Ayumi-san. It's better to have dinner with a beautiful woman than with a beautiful man."

Regardless of the flush in her cheeks, she giggled at the thought of Sakai hearing Jackson describe him as beautiful.

* * *

Mitsui took the binoculars off his face.

"They seem to be having a good time…"

Fuji smirked.

"Yeah, what a shocker, right?"

"What do you mean?"  
Sigh.

"Well, Jackson's always been this stoic guy, never really says anything unless it's important… He's never really enjoyed himself till we met you and your friends. I guess now that Nakamichi-dono's happy, he's slowly letting himself loosen up."

Mitsui smiled at the two they've been spying on, then quickly sobered at some harrowing thought. "Hey… what if he finds out we've been spying on him all this time?"

Fuji shrugged. "Probably beat the shit out of us."

Aghast, Mitsui turned to his nonchalant companion. "What?! How can you be so cavalier about that?"

"Because I know how to defend myself," he answered, a smug look on his face.

Mitsui started the engine and put on his safety belt. "Well, I don't, so I say we get the hell out of here before he finds out."

As he pulled out of their parking spot, Fuji laughed so hard at his paranoid colleague that he failed to see the watchful eyes that saw them from the entrance of the restaurant.

* * *

The bakery was packed that morning, and the old baker and his wife were overwhelmed. It was a God-send that Ayumi showed up early when she did, and she immediately put an apron on and jumped behind the counter to tend to customers.

"What's going on, why's it so crowded?" she spoke above the din of the patrons inside.

"It seems that the kids have some kind of membership drive for the university clubs," yelled the baker's wife.

"Ayumi-chan, please help Mama here for a bit, I have to take care of these orders." The old man took a stack of order lists with him to the back where the ovens were full of pastries and kolaches.

The pick-ups for the orders and the customers didn't stop pouring in, and it seemed that more people filled the bakery with each quarter hour that passed. Ayumi's eyes were swirling, and if she felt like this, she could only imagine what it felt like to have the old couple's old bones. It got so crowded that there was a line forming out the door, all patrons hoping that they would get even a morsel of bread with all the people taking out boxes of orders.

Cooling down from his run, Jackson slowed to a jog and approached the jam-packed bakery, wondering what the fuss was. Every single person there tried not to touch his sweat-drenched shirt, and after some light shoving and pushing, he finally made it to the ovens in the back where the old man was so happy he was there, he screamed.

"Hey! Jackson-san, you're a mind-reader! How did you know I was hoping you'd come by?"

The guard grinned sheepishly. "Actually, I forgot to bring a spare shirt, and I was wondering if I can buy one of those shirts from you."

The baker waved him off. "Hell, you can have one if you could just help me for the next hour. I have to help Mama and Ayumi-chan in the front."

"Ayumi-san is here?"

Tickled by his brightened face, the baker never missed a chance to tease. "Why Jackson-san, don't tell me Ayumi-chan tickles your fancy…"

He was so red at the statement that he grumbled in response. "Don't you have to help your wife at the front?"

Out the baker went, laughing as he donned his apron on. A few minutes later after loading five trays of kolaches and cinnamon rolls, a shirt went launching into his face. Quickly peeling it off his face, he didn't have to know who the culprit was. He'd save payback for later.

After the last tray of muffins was plucked from the oven and the last box of orders picked up, the baker and his wife laughed when Ayumi sagged against the backside of the pastry case, blowing away the few locks that came undone from her impromptu ponytail earlier. "Ojii-chan, Obaa-chan… how do you do it… my legs feel like jell-o… if you don't mind, I'm going to just wilt here for a while…"

"Why, we can't have that!" sang the baker's wife. She was just as playful as her husband. "Don't worry, I can get you propped up in no time." She motioned to her husband who nodded back.

Ayumi had closed her eyes in bliss when the coupled babbled on about hanging up the sold-out sign by the door. She was so tired, she didn't want to move. For a few moments, she thought of being light as a cloud, of floating up to the clouds and staying there for a while. And all of a sudden, she was.

Blinking her eyes open, she realized she was four feet off the ground, hoisted up by arms that held her against a solid chest in a bridal hold.

"Hey, wha—"

"Place her over here, Jackson-san," the baker said as he pulled a seat. "All right, careful now, that's precious cargo… she's like a goose that lays golden eggs…"

"A goose?! Ojii-chan, I'm not a bird! And you, let me down this instant!"

She tried to wiggle in his hold, but she knew she wasn't going to be let down if he didn't want to. Damn his brute strength.

He took his time in getting to the seat, speaking in a very low timbre. "Don't worry, Ayumi-san. Even if you are a goose, you're the most beautiful and work-efficient goose I've ever seen."

Her eyes widened at the comment and he laughed at her narrowed eyes, lips twisting in disdain. She finally landed in her seat and immediately rested her head against her forearms on the table. "You're lucky I'm too tired, Jackson-san. Otherwise…"

"Otherwise?"

No answer.

Ayumi had fallen asleep.

* * *

It was raining so hard that the windows sounded like it was getting hit by small pebbles. The thunder scared the little ones and had the dog on edge, all of them huddling close to Reiko.

"There there, no one will harm you," she cooed softly to the twins while patting the dog's head.

"Dada?"

Reiko smiled and caressed her daughter's head. "Daddy went out for an errand, he should be back soon."

She pouted. "Dada…"

The intercom sounded in the living room and she got up to answer it.

"Hello?"  
Slight static.

"Nakamichi-dono, are you all right?"

Smile.

"Yes, we are fine."

"I've been asked by Mitsui-san to watch over you in the house, would that be all right?"  
Shrug.

"Yes, that would be nice."

When Fuji appeared in the living room, the children cheered and ambled towards him. They were Fuji's number one fan. After a few minutes of toddler lifting and swinging, he got a break when they preoccupied themselves with animal books on the floor.

"Nakamichi-dono, the men should be back soon with dinner."

She chuckled and got up from her seat. "They had a snack earlier, so even if it takes a little while longer, they should be fine."

The front door suddenly unlocked and opened, and a soaking Mitsui stepped inside, carrying a plastic bag of dinner entrées. He set them down on a side table.

"Hisashi!" exclaimed Reiko, running immediately to the bathroom to get some towels.

"I'm fine, sweetie, it's only rain!" he yelled behind her. Meeting Fuji's grin, he motioned for him to come over.

"Hey, what's up?"

"There was a little trouble at the restaurant."

Fuji stilled and glanced at the children. "Is everyone okay?" he asked quietly.

Mitsui smiled at his approaching wife and Fuji copied his demeanor. "Thanks for the towels." She took one of the towels and draped one over his head like a nun. Pleased with her work, she went back to the children. As soon as she was seated, Mitsui continued calmly.

"While we were there, Takumi ran to us and said that some man went through the back entrance of the kitchen and took Ayumi-san. He moved so fast that by the time they rushed out to chase him, he and Ayumi-san were gone."

The guard's brows furrowed. "Where is everyone now?"

"Sakai-san is staying with Yoshi-san at the restaurant, and Jackson-san took the car to go look for them. I took Yoshi-san's car to get here, he said he didn't want the children and Reiko to go hungry."

"Did he request for back-up?"

Suddenly, Fuji's cell phone rang. Answering it, he walked away from living room and down the hallway, speaking in hushed tones. While he did so, Mitsui called out to his wife and excused himself for a quick hot shower. When he came back down the stairs, Fuji was back on the floor with the kids. Reiko was opening the boxes of food for the children while the dog barked at Mitsui.

"Hey boy," he greeted, tapping both hands against his lap and immediately the corgi jumped at him. Catching the dog, Mitsui rubbed one of its ears. "Good boy!" Walking to where the children were, his daughter latched onto him like a monkey and his son babbled at the animal pictures. Throwing Fuji a look, the guard nodded. Reiko called out to the kids and placed a bib on each one before feeding them. Fuji excused himself.

"Nakamichi-dono, I'll be going now. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

She smiled and nodded, with the children waving goodbye to him. Mitsui walked down the hallway with him.

"So, what did he say?"

"He said to go find him if he doesn't call back in an hour."

Mitsui sized up his colleague's stance for a few moments. "I'm assuming you're not too worried about it?"

They had approached the back door in the kitchen. Fuji turned to Mitsui.

"Right now, I am more worried for the guy who took Ayumi-san. Jackson sounded really pissed on the phone, and I just hope he doesn't kill the guy." He reached for the doorknob and opened the door. "It should be okay, Mitsui-san. Jackson isn't the lead guard for nothing. He probably doesn't want us to rush out because he doesn't want us to see him so angry. He's low-key like that. Well, you know where to find me if you need me." Patting Mitsui's shoulder, Fuji walked back to the servants' house, leaving Mitsui to imagine Jackson in his fury.

* * *

He had pulled into an unpaved roadway that was hidden by the trees, not far from the main road. Putting the car in park and turning the engine off, he took a few seconds to stare at the sheets of rain that poured against the windshield. He then unbuckled his safety belt and turned to his right.

"So… why did you not return my phone calls?" he asked, his tone calm but menacing.

Ayumi couldn't help but cry quietly, holding herself so tight, trying to keep herself from shaking.

"Answer me!"

She nearly jumped out of her seat, hitting her side against the door. "I—I wasn't aware that you called."

"Liar!"

She curled her head down and wanted to ball herself up. She quivered at his touch, and the fingertips he slid against her neck were ice cold, tracing a slow, slithering path to her chin. He then grabbed it violently and forced her to look at him.

"Why didn't you wait for me at the restaurant?!"

"I did, I waited for two hours!" she shouted, squirming at his touch.

He let her go and leaned his left arm against the steering wheel, still looking at her. "So I got a little tied up… you should've waited a little longer for me."

Ayumi choked her sobs and wanted to flee. She had never imagined the fourth date to be a psychopath, and she was thinking of the worst. There were no streetlamps to light the road for another half mile, and even if there were, it would take hawk eyes to see through the rain, the trees and the darkness to find them.

"Since we missed our first introduction, allow me to do so," he said, snaking his hand on her neck. "My name is Shintaro Tanaka."

Ayumi couldn't stand him touching her anymore. "Get away from me!" She shoved him away and managed to miss his grabbing hands when she opened the door. Thank God she didn't wear the safety belt. She got out and ran as fast as she could. Not being able to see in the dark didn't really matter when rain pelted one's eyes; all that mattered was that the snake that was screaming after her doesn't touch her again.

"Get over here, we're not finished yet!" he yelled, reaching and tackling her down to the ground. Rolling her over to her back, he pinned her arms above her head and grinned at her like the devil. "That's it, that's just how I want you… on your back and begging…"

Ayumi struggled to move against his weight, and the moment his lips made contact with her neck, she wanted to vomit.

"Stop, don't do this!"

The man only laughed.

She kept wiggling her legs in an effort to free herself of him, and just when she felt his tongue against her collarbone, the weight on her suddenly disappeared. Realizing she was free from his hold, she immediately got up and began to run. She swiped her eyes with a hand and squinted up ahead. It seemed that she was nearing the main road. When her legs began to fail her, she crashed abruptly into something solid and metal, bouncing off like a wet tennis ball to her backside. Groaning, she got up again and touched at the object in front of her. It was a car. She felt around for the handle and found it, crying once more when she discovered it was locked. There was no choice but to run again, and so she did, but only for a few more yards or so as she slowed to a fast-paced walk up the main road towards the restaurant.

Ayumi shivered as she walked on, holding herself tightly, trying to keep her teeth from chattering wildly in the cold. She could barely hear anything apart from the rain falling down, and she hoped that no one would run her over as she walked on the road. She thought she heard something but chose to ignore it, instead forcing herself to walk faster and silently crying in fear. When her ears caught the same sound again, she stopped in her tracks. Straining to listen, she finally made out what she heard.

"Ayumiiii! Where are you!!? Ayumiiii!"

She gasped. "Jackson-san?!"

She remained in place, praying to God it was him. Swiping the rain off her eyes, she waited until she could hear the sound of footsteps against the road.

"Ayumi! Tell me you're all right!"

She cried even more at his voice, her head jolting back when his body crashed into hers and wrapped her in his arms of steel.

"Are you hurt? What did he do to you? Did I get there in time?"

She still couldn't answer him, she was relieved speechless at his presence. He momentarily let go, only to lift her up off the ground and carry her, and she could do nothing more than hold onto him with her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry, Ayumi-san, I'm so sorry… I should've kept a closer watch on you…"

She shook her head in the crook of his neck, his grip tightening on her.

"Don't be sorry. Never be sorry for saving my life…"

When they got to the car, he opened the door and placed her in the passenger seat, fastening the safety belt over her before running to the driver side of the car. As soon as he pushed a button, the engine roared to life and the lights turned on the dash. When she could finally see, she noticed that there was no key hole for a car key.

"You don't need keys to drive this car?"

"It's a push-button start. The key just has to be on your person for you to open the door and start the engine."

It was no wonder she couldn't open the car door earlier.

He pushed a few more buttons when he got back on the main road, one of them was some sort of speakerphone. "Fuji, it's Jackson. I found her. Have Sakai disengage the alarms at the summer house. Call the police and tell them that there's a man unconscious on the side of the road, about half a mile after the last streetlamp going south. Secure everyone at home and make sure Yoshi-san is accompanied to his house tonight. Better yet, make him stay at the Nakamichi estate. I will inform you of more details later."

Jackson didn't even give the younger guard a chance to speak before hanging up.

"Ayumi-san, are you bleeding anywhere?"

She turned on the light by her visor and looked down at herself. She had some cuts on both palms, some shallow, some deep. Her knees had cuts on them as well, but nothing some antiseptic and band-aids couldn't take care of. "I just have a few cuts, I'm not gushing out or anything."

"I'll be taking you to the same house where you and I stayed before…"

"… Okay."

He was driving extremely fast, scanning the cars on the highway and overtaking them to get to their exit faster. The whole trip was a blur to Ayumi, and before she knew it, they had parked into a driveway of a large house in an affluent district.

"Don't move, I'll come get you," he said as he unbuckled his safety belt.

"I can—" He already closed the driver's side door."Get out by myself," she continued in a murmur.

He carried her into the house and placed her gently onto of the granite kitchen counter, Ayumi shivering at the cold surface. Mumbling an apology, he took a throw blanket from the sofa and draped it over her shoulders. He then began a survey of her injuries, noting the bruise by her left temple and the cuts she mentioned earlier. Deeming them slight, he led her to the bathroom where he turned the hot water on for her and gave her towels and a bathrobe.

"Leave your clothes out the door and I'll wash them for you."

She thanked him and he left her to wash off the dirt and grime and the sticky nastiness of that man's tongue on her skin. She must've stood under the shower head for an hour, her fingers were soft and pruny by the time she shut the water off. She was more surprised at the fact that there were more patches of red tender skin on her back than she was at the mirror not being foggy, no doubt from being forced on the rocky ground Sighing, there was nothing she could do about them, except hide it from her family, especially Jackson. She remembered how livid he was that time he found out she got slapped. She didn't even know if there was enough of Shintaro Tanaka to beat, she just speculated that he was already ground meat on the dirt path.

When she walked back to the kitchen in the bathrobe, Jackson was nowhere to be found. She chose to stay put, leaning against the kitchen counter where she sat before. Taking a look at her surroundings, she noted the tall ceilings and glass windows that over looked the bay. She wondered if it was his home. Cautiously, she moved around the kitchen, finding the pantry and she comforted at the sight of a canister of tea on the shelf.

* * *

With the clothes in the dryer, Jackson walked out of the laundry room while putting on a shirt. He went by the bathroom and found it empty.

"Ayumi-san?" he called out.

"Over here."

She sat on a bench by the window, facing the bay, with a steaming cup of tea in her hands, and another cup on the side table. He took a deep breath and walked slowly towards her, making his footsteps deliberate, not knowing how she'd react with him there. He sat at the other end of the bench.

"This is for you," she said, picking up the teacup and holding it out to him. Taking it from her with both hands, he nodded slightly.

"Thank you." He faced the bay and looked at the glittering lights of the city.

"Where did you go?"

"To the laundry room. Our clothes are drying."

A nod.

Silence.

"This place is awfully big if only one person was to live in it."

He turned his head slightly at her. "Yes, it is. It's even bigger when no one lives here."

A small smile.

"You don't live here?"

"Unfortunately, no. This is one of the summer houses owned by the Nakamichi family."

"Oh…"

Pause.

"Besides, this wouldn't be a house I'd choose to live in."

"Why?"

"There are too many windows… they can be easily breached… and plus it'd get hot in the summertime on the side of the house that faces west, and there are a lot more windows there."

"So where would you live?"

"Hm…" Jackson took a long moment to contemplate on his answer. "Well, for starters, it wouldn't be in the city. It would be far away from it, on a plot of land several acres large. There'd be enough trees around it, with plenty of shrubbery and foliage. I have to have a place to set up booby traps for unwanted guests."

She giggled before taking a sip.

"I'd have a hammock in the back porch to read a lot of the books I'll have in my study, and a kitchen that Yoshi-san would approve of."

"You like to cook?"

Shrug.

"It's a necessity if you're going to be alone. The dog I'm going to have certainly won't do it for me. I can only cook simple stuff."

Smile.

"I envy the fact that you can choose to live alone."

Jackson was quieted by her comment. A long bout of silence passed between them.

"It's not really a choice, Ayumi-san… for a long time now, I thought that that's how I would have to live the rest of my life."

There was something hidden behind his words. "… Then… there was somebody you wanted to live with you…" It was a statement more than a question.

Jackson took a long sip of his tea. "She was Nakamichi-dono's sister."

Ayumi's eyes widened a little as she looked down at her tea. She knew Reiko was beautiful, and she could only imagine what the sister looked like.

"She… she died over a decade ago… so it's been the solo life for me… well, if you don't count living with three other guards."

"I'm sorry I brought it up," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The lights on the bay from the boats looked like slow-moving fireflies in Jackson's eyes. "Don't be sorry. I've come to terms with it." She turned to him, her eyes on the wooden floor.

"The grass is truly greener on your side, Jackson-san."

He didn't know what to say to that.

"We have more in common than I thought… except you have time on your side."

"… I'm afraid I don't understand."

Pause.

"They say that time chips away at glaciers of sorrows that nothing can melt…"

"… It wasn't easy. I had help."

Nod.

Shift.

"Oh, thank you, by the way, for saving me. Again. For the…" she trailed off, ticking off with her fingers how many times she can remember being rescued. "Well, for so many times, I've lost count."

His teacup was empty now, and there was nothing left to calm him before saying what he wanted to say. If he had the courage to say it.

"This evening wouldn't have happened if I took more precautions for your safety."

Ayumi's brow furrowed. "But I was at the restaurant working, not on a blind—"

"That doesn't matter. When I agreed to protect you, it's supposed to be round the clock, even when I'm not there. I should've made sure—"

"Please… don't…"

He had no choice but to obey, her voice sounded so despondent.

"We're funny people, aren't we, Jackson-san? Always unhappy, even though we do great things that make other people happy… well, I speak for myself with that last statement."

The corners of his lips turned up. "So I'm just funny now?"

She shrugged with a sad smile.

"I'm not unhappy… but I'm not content either. I _could_ be happier, but… it's not up to me."  
"Who's it up to, then?" she asked absently, staring at the glowing lights of the bay.  
Jackson angled his head at her and gave her a long look.

"Ayumi-san, you mentioned once that you thought there might be a chance of you finding one of your blind dates acceptable to you. Is that still true?"  
She slowly nodded. "Yes, but… I don't know… if I wasn't so jaded with all the ones I'm set up with, I'd still cling to that thought… but… I think maybe my first attempt at love ruined me…"

Jackson placed the empty teacup on the side table on his side. "On the contrary, I think it saved you. I think… _he_ saved you."

She moved her eyes to the bodyguard, now resting his elbows on his knees. He traced thick fingers against the lip of the cup. "I think… that some people were put here on this planet to make you realize that you're capable of loving… and for them, it's enough to love you and spend time with you… because… given enough time, perhaps you would love them back…"

Ayumi bent her head down, wondering why Jackson knew how she felt all too well. "Is that what you thought with Reiko-san's sister?" She could almost hear him bite his tongue, and she was sorry her words silenced him. After what seemed like a day of silence, she stood up, head still bent. "I apologize for making you uncomfortable. I guess all I really know how to do is make cakes and pastries." She eyed the empty cup in his hands. "I'll get you some more tea if you'd like."

He looked at her and hesitated for a moment, finally giving in at her outstretched hand. He was about to place the cup in her hand when he saw the cuts on her palm. "God, what was I thinking?"

"What?"

"I didn't tend to your hands after your shower," he said, getting up from his seat and took her gently by the wrist and leading her back to the kitchen. He took an emergency kit from one of the cabinets. He just smiled when she asked him if he had an emergency kit in every room, and stifled a laugh when she mumbled that he probably had bandages in his back pocket.

"But I currently have no back pockets, Ayumi-san." She quickly glanced at his apparel when he turned around to return the cups by the island stove. He was right, sweatpants don't have back pockets, and they didn't do a good job of hiding muscular backsides. Shocked at what she just thought, she turned her head away, blushing furiously. When he turned back around, she had her eyes shut tight.

"Um… you're done now, right, doctor?"

She waited for a response, her eyes cracking open when she heard none and somewhat relieved that he was now facing her, eyes on the floor.

"Ayumi-san, I… yes, I'm done…"

She relaxed a little, shifting her eyes to the light reflecting off the granite countertop, trying not to notice the ripped muscles of his forearms. When she prayed for help, she didn't expect God to send a perfect creation to carry out the job. Chiseled muscles meant honed strength. Strength that pushed her down on the ground and tried to ravage her. The same strength that saved her from losing her virtue. She quietly sighed, blinking at the tiring gravity of the dichotomy of male strength.

"What you said about me earlier was right, Ayumi-san."

"Huh?"

She looked down at the same spot he'd been staring at, wondering if she missed something interesting.

"I meant… that I do have time on my side…"

She understood now why he was silent earlier. She brought her bandaged hands up and waved him off. "Oh no, it's my fault, I really shouldn't have brought it up."

He grazed a knuckle against his brow. "… I think you misinterpreted what I was trying to say."

"… Where'd I go wrong?"

He brought his gaze back to her eyes, and after a few moments of its intensity, she blinked.

"I wasn't referring to Midori earlier… I was referring to you."

Ayumi could feel her cheeks go up in flames, hoping that staring at his plain white shirt would bleach her vision out. Then she wouldn't have anything to focus on that could betray her emotions even further.

"The man you spoke of at the skating rink, you underestimated him. He knew exactly what he was saying, because I see what he saw. He was right to love you beyond words… right to tell you that you're strong… and right again that the someone you will love in the future will indeed be the luckiest man on earth."

If she could reach for her heart that felt like it was lodged in her throat, she would.

"I watch people everyday… I do it for a living. I can tell a lot just by looking at a person's posture and movements, and when I do it long enough, I can predict what the person will do next. But ever since I started watching over you, I'm slowly losing this ability to predict… I know when you wear the poker face, and you're good at making it sincere… even I fell for it a few times. But I know when you sit across that table from any blind date, the smiles aren't what you feel inside."

"Jackson-san, I—"

"Your smiles are distracting, and unless I take long and hard enough look into your eyes, I wouldn't see what you really feel."

He was reading her like a book and she hated feeling so vulnerable. She quickly looked away, swinging her gaze to the windows, then back again to the countertop against which his hands rested.

Blood-encrusted knuckles.

Ayumi blinked before pushing off the counter gingerly, minding the tender muscles of her back. She fought the urge to grimace when her back spasmed in pain and forgot his scrutinizing eyes. "It's unfair that you only tend to my injuries and not yours," she said, her attention honed in on the bruises that started forming around the crust of blood.

Looking down at his hand, he was surprised to find dry blood there. "Oh… I didn't even notice."

It figured that a tough man like him wouldn't notice.

Jackson nearly jumped at her touch, her fingers were like icicles against his skin. "Your hand—"

"I'm completely jealous now… Jackson-san," she said, her eyes fixed at the link she made with his hand. "You're free to choose how to live your life, you don't hurt inside anymore, and you probably don't ever have to worry about being cold. You're a walking furnace."

He gently gathered her hands and trapped them in his, bringing them closer to his mouth and slowly blew his warm breath against them.

"I knew it… You may look human in disguise, but the truth is you're really a dragon. That's why you're so warm!"

He let himself smile, only to realize that she had once again succeeded in slowing his heart and lightening the mood. He continued to blow against her hands.

"Any second now, fire will shoot out of your mouth."

He stopped midway of exhaling, about to say something in his defense when he noticed that she was trembling. She was that cold? He looked at her face and saw her bottom lip trapped between her teeth, her gaze still on his hands that held hers. "Ayumi-san…?"

"He was so disgusting … he made me feel like helpless trash…"

She was having a flashback of what the animal did to her, and he didn't know how to take the memory away from her mind. He pulled her closer and held her against him, wishing he could absorb all the fear and anxiety from her. How could so many awful things happen to a sweet and cheerful soul?

"This was my fault," she mumbled against his chest.

"What? How could you say that? You didn't ask to be hurt!"

"… Had I opposed my parents from the beginning, if only I had some backbone to stand up for myself back then, this wouldn't have happened…"

He tightened his hold on her. "No, please don't think like that… none of this is your fault… none of it… I promise, Ayumi-san… I promise this will never happen to you again, ever…"

Ayumi ground her forehead against him. "… That would mean that you'd be watching over me twenty-four seven… I can think of a hundred many other better things you could do with your time…"

Jackson brought a hand to her head and stroked at her silk of her hair. "Is it so bad to look after you?"

She hesitated. "It would be bad for my superhero reputation." Her reply made him rest his cheek against the top of her head. This man was so nice to her, saved her too many times to count. She welcomed the comfort he gave her like second nature, and she didn't know why she felt so guilty in finding solace in him. Was it because it was like betraying the person she loved in the past? She didn't know. Perhaps she was just afraid of losing his friendship because it was tiring to have to save the damsel who was always in distress. She didn't have many close friends.

Jackson was frustrated at how she could easily make him feel at ease when he couldn't even stop her from shaking in fear. "Every superhero has a sidekick. Guess what? You have one now." He felt her go still.

"… Will you be wearing tights?"

A chuckle escaped from him. "No."

"Oh good."

A pause.

"Because I might have to go back to Yoshi-san and get a new fairy godfather… I refuse to have one who has less fashion sense than I do."

She didn't know why, but it felt good to hear him laugh, to feel the bass of his voice reverberate against her. It was then she knew that Jackson was more than just a friend to her, and more than just volunteered muscle to fend away the demons that claw after her.

He was a sanctuary.

* * *

Mitsui carried his daughter on his shoulders and held onto his walking son's hand, while Reiko held onto the other hand. Miller had already gone ahead and picked their usual spot in the park, and as expected, the picnic blanket was already spread and smoothed out, ready cherry blossom viewing. Fuji trailed behind with the picnic basket, still frowning at the playful accusation shot by Miller that he was better suited to carry it since he would most likely be the one eating most of the food from it. Fuji was frowning because Miller was right.

Sakai joined the group a little later, surprising everyone with ice cream he had purchased from a vendor on the street. Taking one of the twins onto their laps, Fuji and Miller pointed out the falling petals which made the children stare with gaping mouths. Handing a cup of tea to Sakai, the guard thanked Reiko and sat back contentedly, watching the scenery before them.

"Where has Jackson-san been lately?" Mitsui asked, taking a bite off a watermelon wedge.

"I'm sure he's around," commented Sakai, sipping at his tea. "In fact, you might see him around any minute now."

"Huh?"

Wordlessly, Mitsui was handed a pair of small binoculars, Sakai instructing him to look north by northwest.

"What am I looki—"

Mitsui remained silent for a long moment, the smile on his lips growing by the second.

* * *

"Mom, I don't see the point in this…"

Cheer.

"Come now, Ayumi-chan! It's a beautiful day, showered with exquisite pink petals all around!"

Ayumi knew that there had to be a reason why her mother made her go to the salon and stop at a clothing store on the way to the park. It wasn't because they were going for a casual stroll in the park. She frowned blatantly at her mother.

"Okay fine, you got me. I just wanted you to meet someone here, that's all!"

"Oh, Mom!"

"What? The park is a lovely place to meet at this time of year! Look around you!"

If her mother was decided on being happy, there was nothing to sway her from it. Not even a refusal. So she sat down on the nearest bench and did as she was told.

"He's the one, I'm sure of it," her mother chattered happily.

Ayumi rolled her eyes.

"He's really tall, and quite handsome… he makes a lot of money, has a stable job, and is very polite…"

Where had she heard this before?

"_Blah blah blah, blah blah…"_

Ayumi blankly stared at the falling petals ahead of her. When something moved from her left field of vision, she blinked and shifted her gaze to the form slowly approaching.

"He lives around the area and frequents the same bakery you do, Ayumi-chan! Isn't that wonderful? Now you'll have someone to talk to at the bakery!"

Her mother's voice didn't even register in her mind as she focused her eyes intently at the man coming towards them. When his face finally came within a recognizable distance, her back was ramrod straight.

Panic.

"Mom, how did you say you met this man again?"

"Oh, at home! I found out he knew about you from before… said that you ran into each other a while back and commented that it was a smashing introduction!"

_… The almond extract bottle? Smashing, indeed… _What was she to say to him now?

"Ah, here he is, Ayumi-chan!" Her mother waved at the man in a blue dress shirt and tie. The broad shoulders, that professional posture, the hulking physique… and that face. Ayumi was deciding whether or not to cover her face, or just run away altogether. The embarrassment burned her to the roots of her hair.

"Jackson-san! Thank you for coming out today to meet my daughter. This is Ayumi, my youngest. Ayumi-chan, this is Jackson Toshiro-san. He said you've met him before?"

The guard noticed that Ayumi was seconds late in putting on her mask. "Ah, oh, yeah, yes… that…_ smashing_ introduction," she stuttered, halfway holding her hand out for a shake, only to retract it and bow politely before him. "It's nice to meet you, Jackson-san."

How many times were they going to be introduced to each other?

"It's a pleasure to finally see you again, Kawamori-san."

Her eyes lifted to meet his, the warm glint from his gaze stilling her beating heart. "Please, call me Ayumi."

Her mother's voice bubbled in delight. "Oh, on such an informal level already! Anyway, I'm so glad that you two are able to meet today. I have a book club meeting to attend, and it's my turn to host, and you know the host can't be late!" she singsonged, smiling sweetly at her daughter.  
"No, Mom, you can't. You'd better go, otherwise they might throw a book at you."

Her mother just laughed at her. "All right then. Jackson-san, I take it you will take good care of my daughter?"  
His bass voice was unnerving Ayumi. "She's in good hands, ma'am."

Ayumi's mother sighed loudly. "Isn't that nice to hear? Well, I'll be going. See you at home!"

Jackson watched the elderly Kyoko disappear into the intersection of crossing people. How did an old lady manage to walk so fast? When he returned his gaze to Ayumi, she looked so shocked and confused. "Ayumi-san?"

"How… when… did you deliberately call my mother to do this?"  
Jackson felt like his decision to meet her at the park was suddenly bad. "As a matter of fact, she called me…"

"What?"

"Ayumi-san, I can explain—"

"Jackson-san, it's a really sweet gesture, but you don't have to force yourself to do this—"

"I wasn't forced, Ayumi-san. I chose to be here. She somehow got my phone number from Nanami-san and asked if I would meet you here today."

"…Oh…"

Ayumi sat down, still confused. The guard took the seat next to her.

"… Do you not want me to be here, Ayumi-san?"

" No no, I do, I do… I just… I feel as if I owe you an apology."

He laughed. "What for?"

"… She really, _really_ likes you, from how she described you to me… I thought you were gonna be just another jerk like all the other ones..."

"Gee, thanks."

She smiled. "That's not what I meant. I mean… it's just that… she'll demand an explanation when this whole charade ends…"

"This is a charade?"

"Well, yes!"

Jackson decided to change the subject. "So tell me then, what will she do if she finds out that this is the charade you're suggesting?"

Looking down the ground where a swirl of petals eddied, she thought out loud. "She'll be upset if she found out… and tell me how she went through lengths to set you up with me… how a good catch you would've been… and then she'll cry and say that it'll be her fault if I live the rest of my life in solitude… the same dramatic soliloquy."

He sat back in his seat. "Perhaps she doesn't have to know."

Ayumi's face twisted. "Are you kidding? If she sees us getting along, she'll want to demand a date and call your mother to plot a wedding! I don't want you to be shackled to me just because you were trying to be nice."

"… Are you sure it's because _you_ don't want to be married?"

"No… that's not it… I'm saying, that I don't want anybody to be stuck with someone they didn't like for the rest of their lives."

"Does that mean you don't like me?"

She laughed. "I was referring to you, silly."

"I don't see any problem there. I like you a lot, Ayumi-san."

"I like you a lot, too, Jackson-san, and that's why I don't want to lose your friendship later on because of this charade."

"Who said anything about losing my friendship?"

Ayumi paused. This conversation was going in a direction that made her very warm and uncomfortable. It made her heart trip beats.

"… I'm just saying… that you're a really nice person, and if you… if we…"

The guard could feel her resolve falter. Though elated at admission that he was a cherished friend, he wanted to know if she was willing to take a risk.

"I asked you once before… if there was a chance of you finding an acceptable blind date in all the ones your mother set you up with… is there?"

She was quieted by the question. Why did he have to be so frank and sincere to the point of pain? She was defenseless against this man, and there was no front she could put up to hide behind. His x-ray vision would see right through it.

"…Yes…"

Taking a deep breath, he let out a quiet sigh. "Ayumi-san… if this person was acceptable in your eyes and someone you liked… someone who wanted nothing more than your safety and to see the real smile on your face… someone who would give up his life to see to your protection… who couldn't stop thinking about you everyday… do you think there's a chance for this person…?"

Ayumi could've sworn the weatherman said it would be a nice day that day, with cloudy skies and mildly warm temperatures. There was nothing mild about the temperature Ayumi was feeling, she felt like an ant under a magnifying glass on a very sunny day. She couldn't answer him. She knew he was talking about himself, and this was no longer playful banter.

"Then… perhaps… would the man you loved before approve of this person?"

She closed her eyes and tried not to see in her mind's eye her beloved's smiling face and a resounding 'yes' from his lips. _Because if he knew Jackson, they would be really good friends…_

"I-if… if there _was_ a chance… why would this person want to know?"

Ball in his court.

"Because… this person wants to take his first step of freedom towards someone who is comforting and struggling to find freedom herself."

"… What… imprisoned him?"

He tilted his head towards her. "The past."

On any other ordinary day, Ayumi imagined that the sparse people in the park in the middle of a workday would think that they were merely a pair of people talking on a park bench. She had a sinking feeling that the image was slowly dissolving into some other kind of pair. The kind that involved commitment. She momentarily met his eyes and quickly averted her gaze. A bug couldn't very well yell back at the man looking at it through a microscope, could it?

_Hello, my name is Ayumi and I thought you were really handsome since the day I met you, and even more so when you ran into me in front of the grocery store. You take a piece of me every time you come to the rescue, and if you keep at it, there won't be anything left of me to take. So please, don't be so dashing and hang up the cape… don't sound like you care so much… don't look at me like I mean something to you… don't make me feel so safe in your arms… because if you keep taking pieces of me, I won't be able to keep myself from—_

"This person knows you are capable of loving, but for this person, it's not enough to love you or spend time with you… because… he wants exclusive rights to look after you… to get you a pair of Nike shoes if you want to run, as long as you'll let him run with you… to appease your mother so you can be free to do whatever you want… to hear you laugh and be there when you cry… to keep a promise to you that no man will ever hurt you again… all in the hopes of finding favor in your sight, and… a chance, slim as it may be… to be loved in return."

_Falling…_

Jackson, for all his strength and chivalry, couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. It was as if all the observation, the meticulous study of the woman next to him had culminated into words and feelings that refused to be held in and gushed out with reckless abandon. He knew she felt uncomfortable; so did he. As long and hard as he thought about it, even before deciding to agree with Ayumi's mother to meet with her on this so-called first introduction, he knew that he could no longer stand by and watch Ayumi meet man after beastly man, constantly disappointed and never redeemed. Somewhere between making baked goods and blind date shadowing, he unknowingly let his heart's guard down and got shot. And somewhere on her person, Ayumi kept the smoking gun and she had no clue.

"Um… well… you see… I think I have a lot in common with, _this_ person, and… but…"

"But what?"

Pause.

"But I… I'm afraid…"

"Why?"

Outburst.

"Because!... Because… I heard he was a dragon disguised as a superhero…"

Jackson's lips slowly parted in puzzlement.

"And he does a lot of good things… great things, for the common folk… rescues helpless people with underdeveloped backbones…"

Deep breath.

"And I don't know if I can live up to his expectations, as I'm sure they're high—"

Laugh.

"How do you know? Have you asked him what they are?"

"I don't have to ask, I just know… and… um… you know how in the Superman movies, all the girls swoon and cheer over him because he's spectacular and wonderful and so nice? I feel like I'm the girl who was drowning, or the one who fell into a big crack after an earthquake, the one who died and required him to fly counterclockwise around the Earth to reverse time and save her before she was buried alive… I'm too busy getting into trouble to swoon and cheer… and even though I think the world of this Superman, I will always be just another girl he has to save because I have a hard time standing up for myself and getting rid of the bad guys on my own. And as grateful and happy as I am that he continues to do this for me, I feel like… like it's a lot of hard work for him that he doesn't have to do, and… I don't want him to have to work so hard and… I want him to be happy, too, because he's such an awesome friend and I… I don't want to lose this friend if I were to cross the line… I'm not making any sense, am I?"

He smiled at her, making her smile and grimace at the same time.

"All this is, is a matter of pastries."

Jackson gave her a questioning look.

"My pastries in return for his protection. A transaction. Except, I am the one benefiting more from it, and I don't think it's very fair at all… all this person's hard work for pastries… It's like working for pennies on the dollar."

Breeze.

"Not only that…"

Petals.

"Not only do I fear my friendship change into something more with this person… I fear that if it does and, if I don't grow a spine soon and he determines I'm too much work, he will go away, just as I had no confidence to tell the other person how I felt and he left without hearing me say it… then… I will lose my only sanctuary."

Ayumi reached a hand to her face and swept a straying lock of hair behind her ear, wishing for a cure for senseless banter. She felt the air beside her move and blinked to find Jackson standing right in front of her, smiling, looking at her with the same warm eyes that were foreign in color but friendly in feel.

"It's not a lot of work, Ayumi-san. It's what I want to do. I want to protect you so you can keep smiling and making me laugh all the time. I want to keep you out of trouble, and you don't have to swoon or cheer… I do a lot of that already when I'm around you. So just let me keep my promise. Please let me keep you safe, let me be close to you and let me know that you like me for me, and not for being mere muscle."

"If you're mere muscle, Jackson-san, then you're the kindest, strongest gentlest muscle I've ever known." She stood up, keeping her eyes to the ground. "I don't know if… if I can be anything more than what you have already seen…"

Another breeze unhooked the same lock of hair from her ear. The guard lifted a hand to her face and gently replaced her hair back where it was before. "You already are." He dared to let his fingers tilt her chin and linger against the softness of her cheek. "The probability may be very small, but… do you think there's a chance you could learn to love me back?"

Ayumi felt ridiculous that tears were falling from her eyes as her smile blossomed across her blushing cheeks. "I don't know… between the sanctuary and this, is it negotiable?" She watched him wipe her tears away and froze when he leaned down to take her breath away with a kiss. She wasn't aware she was holding onto the front of his shirt until he slowly pulled away, the glaze gradually melting from her eyes.

"Ayumi-san, I love you."

Blink.

"Most definitely… very negotiable."

His laughter filled the air around them and the hollow space in her heart with something warm and soothing. Ayumi's suspicion had been confirmed. He truly was a dragon, her lips were still sizzling to be otherwise. For the first time in her life, she experienced liberation it its purest form.

* * *

On a picnic blanket a hundred yards away sat five grown-ups and two clueless children, the five with binoculars hanging round their necks, quietly cheering and pumping their fists proudly in the air, while the children sat looking up at them with dumbfounded curiosity.

Within minutes, hugs and kisses were exchanged.

Within an hour, spying eyes would be found out.

Within a day, Mitsui and the rest of the guards would be fighting for dear life against an unhappy, spied-on Jackson.

Within months, friends and adopted family would marry.

For all those involved, fate has come full circle. For each man, a woman.

For the girl that time loved, a man who loved her even more.


End file.
